Surprise Me (Eve Route Remix)
by AsterionDelToro
Summary: A remixed version of Eve's storyline from Summertime Saga, with a few new twists included. Aaron returns to school after a month grieving for his dead father, still not mentally recovered. Solace comes from his friendship with Eve, a quiet loner with troubles of her own. Together they face high school drama and their own traumas, slowly becoming something more than just friends.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE:

I COULD SEE IN TECHNICOLOR

It was an April twilight, comfortably warm, and Tyrone and his crew were chilling at the fountain in the park. Tyrone's stereo blasted hip-hop with a bass line that thumped like the heartbeat of a giant mythical beast. Eve sat on the opposite side of the fountain, hidden from the clique's view by the cascading waters. Despite the racket, she paid them no mind. She had her own music, pumped directly into her brain by a pair of noise-canceling headphones with anime cat-ears. She must have really liked those headphones, because the black hoodie she was wearing all the time had two cat-ear pockets in the hood to make room. But I have a feeling it was actually the other way around- It was the hoodie she liked, and picked the headphones because they fit with it. I wondered if she had then dyed her hair blue to match the headphones, though it was equally likely that she had dyed it to match her jeans, or the accents of her hoodie, or even her shoelaces. Or maybe it wasn't anything in particular. Maybe she just had a style, a thing that was hers, and she went with it. And that thing was blue on black. Or black and blue.

Around the other side of the fountain, the bass-beast's loyal servants talked about shit that didn't matter, even to them. Occasionally when a good track came on, they'd take a dance break, or rap along. More occasionally, when they were sure nobody was looking, they'd pass a joint around. To Eve, it didn't matter. She was in her own world. Sitting on the ground, back resting against the fountain, between a backpack on one side and a phone and a collection of colored pencils on the other, she was in her own world. Her legs were pulled up so that her thighs became an easel for her sketchbook, and she focused intently on her drawing, with the pursed face of an artist hard at work. The first sign that she had anything else occupying her mind was when her foot started twitching. It was more like tapping, really, but too softly to make a sound. She tapped along with the beat playing on her head phones. The second sign was her head, nodding along with the same beat. Like an infection, the beat spread to her entire body. Her hips rocked back and forth, swaying in time, and her mouth sang along, though no sound came out. I didn't recognize the beat, but the sense I got was bright, cheerful, summery... yet also calm and chill. Less like the beach in summer and more like a car ride in the heat with the windows down. Or lying half-asleep in the shade under a clear blue sky.

Slowly, the rhythm drew her to her feet. She laid her sketchbook aside, straightened up, and then, with a sudden burst of energy, began to dance. It wasn't anything like a professional dance. In technical terms, it probably wasn't even a good one, but then how could it be? She wasn't a trained dancer, just an 18-year old girl with a beat commanding her attention. She threw out random moves that she'd seen, improvising wildly in time with the music and lip-syncing into her pencil eraser. And yet, it was something beautiful. It was raw and primal and celebratory. Something fundamentally honest and true. This was a side of Eve that nobody was ever allowed to see, not even herself. The person she was only allowed to be when she was alone, and her own senses blinded by the ecstasy of music.

I hid behind a tree and watched her. I hadn't meant to find her like this, and watching felt scandalous, but I had a sense that making myself known would be even worse. I would have sooner stolen the host from a church sacristy then interrupt her in the midst of her revels. Justify as I might, though, I have to admit that the real reason I didn't stop her is that I didn't want to. I was transfixed. The passion, the longing, and the sheer unbridled joy in that unguarded moment was breathtaking. I knew then- with a certainty that comes only from superstitious intuition- that I was going to fall in love with Eve. And I had absolutely no idea, at that moment, what that would mean. I had no idea about the bitter loneliness that weighed on her soul. No idea about the pain and the scars she carried around with her. No idea of the mischief or the drama she'd drag me into. Or the secret she carried, the inevitable revelation of which terrified her more than anything. I didn't know about any of that yet. But if I had, I wouldn't have cared, because in that single, fleeting moment I knew the only thing that truly mattered.

Eve was beautiful. If only I had known sooner.

If only she had known then.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

AND IT'S ONE MORE DAY UP IN THE CANYONS

Let me back up a little, because a proper story is supposed to start at the beginning. Of course, that's a problem in itself, since life doesn't always give us clear-cut beginnings and endings. Unless the story starts at birth, but that makes for a very long story with a lot of padding. Let's start around twelve hours earlier, on the morning of my first day back to school. That may not be the precise beginning, but with a little bit of backstory added, it'll do.

During my junior year of high school, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. He died a little over a year later, in March of my senior year. His illness was tough on the family, both emotionally and financially; Dad made enough to allow Mom the luxury of being a stay-at-home mom, so when he got sick our only income was Dad's disability. Mom got part-time work to try and make ends meet, but her husband was dying. She was constantly running off to the hospital to see him, and when she wasn't there she was a nervous and emotional wreck. Her employer was sympathetic, but with a business to run, he had to let her go. Day after day, the bills piled up, the savings depleted, and all the while Dad was wasting away. Mom shielded me from the worst of it, so I didn't know just how bad things were until the repo men knocked on our door three days after the funeral. We lost the house, both cars, the savings account, pretty much everything but our clothes.

Fortunately, my Aunt Diane lived just across town, and thanks to a bad marriage and a good lawyer she had a house with a spare bedroom. She took us in and helped us get back on our feet, emotionally at least. A month after the funeral, I had adjusted to the new normal and was ready to do something more then mope around feeling sad all day.

I got up in the morning, determined to make this an ordinary day at school. Despite the change of scenery, the routine of grooming, dressing, and loading up my backpack was comfortingly mundane. A reminder that just because things have changed, doesn't mean they aren't still the same. The backpack was heavier than usual- the school had been sending catch-up packets every week I was out- but the extra weight on my shoulder was somehow reassuring. Like I had something to strive for. I hooked the wallet chain to my black pants and threw my dark gray cotton hoodie on over a t-shirt. I checked myself in the mirror, wondering if the ensemble was a bit too dark given the circumstances. But no, it was me. The way I always dressed. Same old me. Good.

Mom wasn't doing so well. Downstairs in the living room I found her still asleep on the couch, curled up fetally and wrapped in her frayed pink bathrobe. It was like that every morning. At least Diane had the foresight to empty the liquor cabinet before we moved in. I nudged Mom, trying to rouse her. Then I shook her, told her what time it was. She whined and rolled over, shoving her face into the cushions. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was the teenager, _she_ was supposed to be the one insisting that _I_ get my butt out of bed.

Diane called from the kitchen. "Come on, Aaron, leave her alone."

I shoved Mom again, but she only swung an arm halfheartedly in my direction. I sighed. "Fine, stay there."

In the kitchen, I found Diane dressed for work, munching on toast and packing her briefcase while watching the news on her tablet. The life of a single career woman- always multitasking. On the counter sat my standard school lunch- sandwich, pack of cookies, and a bottle of iced tea. The sandwich was wrapped in wax paper. I sighed, stuffing food and drink into the front pocket of my backpack. "Thanks for lunch, Diane."

"Your welcome. Make yourself some breakfast."

I shook my head. "I'm running late already. Do me a favor, make sure she at least takes a shower before you go to work."

"I'll try."

"Do better than try!," I snapped. "She needs to be up and about, not sleeping all day!"

To her credit, Diane didn't take offense at being scolded by a teenager dealing with some heavy stuff. Or at least she didn't show it. "Aaron, you heard the counselor. She needs to grieve at her own pace."

"Yeah, I also heard the counselor saying that if she doesn't get active somehow, she's never going to start feeling better."

"I know, Aaron, but you can't force people to be who you want them to be. Or to deal with things before they're ready."

"I know, it's just..." Just what, I thought? Just that I wanted my old Mom back? My old family? Just that I wanted to be the kid instead of having to parent my own mother? Just that I didn't want to be afraid of coming home to find her in the bathtub, swimming in red, with a handwritten note on the sink?

Just that I wished Dad was still here?

I sighed again, more heavily. You can want anything, even deserve some of it, but that doesn't mean you get it.

"Look, I'm sorry," I said. "I gotta get going. Thanks again for lunch, and please just make sure she gets as far as dressing herself today, okay?"

"I will. Have a nice day at school."

I nodded and left. Outside I hefted my backpack on my shoulder, shook my head to clear it of frustrations, and set down the sidewalk path to school.

Back in junior high, I picked up the idea- probably from a sappy old movie or something- that you have to bury the past. The past is set in stone, and nothing can change it. You have to look to the present and the future, where you can maybe make some kind of difference. Since Dad died, I'd been trying to live by that philosophy. But it's easy when you're young- with so much future ahead, who needs the past? Mom had devoted years to her family, only to lose her husband and fail her son within days of one another. Now halfway through her life, she had to start over almost from scratch. Who was I to tell her "Buck up, Debbie"?

A ratty old car pulled up beside me as I walked. I didn't notice until I heard the horn and an unexpected but familiar voice saying "Hey, Aaron!"

I stopped in my tracks and turned to the car. "Kevin?"

Sure enough, it was Kevin in the driver's seat. "Hey, man, what's going on? What're you doing here?"

"I live here now. My Aunt's house, two houses up."

"Seriously? Dude, I live the next block over! You heading to school? Hop in, I'll give you a ride!"

"Thanks!"

Kevin was a thin guy two years older than me. He had curly hair, perpetual stubble, and what the girls called "boyishly good looks". We were essentially brothers in all but name. Growing up as two only children in the same cul-de-sac, we bonded early, and that bond had stayed. We had played together as kids, and looked out for each other as we grew older. We kept in touch after he had left for college, and when he came back the next year. I was one of the first to know he was gay, back when he didn't know what that meant for him. He was the only one of my friends to show up at Dad's funeral.

I crawled into the front passenger seat and stowed my backpack by my feet. "Nice ride," I said, lying straight through my teeth. Kevin had probably gotten the car for $1,000 from a friend of a friend of a friend. I doubted it had ever been much more than functional, and the discolored dashboard, sagging ceiling, and duct-taped tear in the backseat did it no favors. At least he hadn't piled junk in the backseat.

Kevin snickered. "Effin' liar." He took a bite of a breakfast sandwich and I noticed a paper bag sitting on the center console.

"Hey," I asked, "you got an extra one of those? I missed breakfast."

"Sorry, man, this is it. But you can have the hash browns if you want."

"Thanks." Hash browns weren't my first choice- I hate potatoes, unless they're fried into chips- but I'm convinced there aren't any actual potatoes in fast food. Potatoes are too food-like for fast food.

Kevin pulled the car out and started us down the road as I munched. After a moment, he spoke again, softly. "So how are things at home? I mean, your living situation…?"

I sighed. "Well, Aunt Diane doesn't make as much as Dad, but she's able to put Mom and I up at least until I get to college. I've already been accepted, and my student loans will cover tuition, housing, and food, so no worries there as long as I graduate on time. I've talked to the school, and they'll help me find a job on campus. That'll offer some leeway, budget-wise. Once Mom finds herself a job, she'll be able to start paying off the debts. But..." I trailed off.

"But, she's still depressed?" Kevin offered.

"Yeah. And there's nothing I can do about it."

"Well, try not to worry too much. I know it's hard to believe it now, but I've always known your mom as a strong woman who gets things done. Sooner or later, she'll be out of this funk."

I grunted noncommittally and took another bite of potato-inspired nugget. "So what's been going on at school?" I asked with my mouth half-full.

Kevin shrugged. "The usual. High school is high school, and high school..."

"-is drama." we finished in unison. Kevin had more or less adopted that as his catch phrase.

"Place hasn't burned down yet, then," I asked.

"With me running the kitchen? I don't think so."

"Except you don't run the kitchen, you're just a food prepper."

"I man the cash register during lunch, so for all you students know, yes I do run the kitchen."

A pause while we both munched.

"What are they saying about me?" I asked. From his post in the cafeteria, Kevin was in a prime position to monitor the school's grapevine.

"Well, they know your dad died and your house went up for sale. Beyond that it's the usual- lunchroom rumors of limited credibility. The more plausible ones say you moved away and aren't coming back. Others say you and your mom are living out of a car and panhandling for cash. Or that your dad faked his death and you're all in witness protection. Or that all three of you turned into werewolves and ran off to live in the woods. Might wanna lean into that last one, werewolves are sexy."

I snickered. "I don't think so."

"What, you don't want to be sexy?"

"Right now I've got to worry about not flunking finals because I missed an entire month of classes."

"I know, but come on, man, it's senior year! Senior year is your reward for making it through SATs and college applications and nonsense. Sooner than you think, it'll be graduation, and the real world will come calling. You've got to grab what remains of your youth by the balls!"

I turned away from him and looked out the window instead. "I don't have time, Kev."

He scoffed. "Whatever, Ronnie. But keep your eyes open, because love doesn't always ask you to make time. Sometimes it just grabs you by the hand and drags you along whether you like it or not. Trust me, love can and will surprise you. Like Greg surprised me."

"Would this be when he kissed you at a party when you thought nobody knew you were gay, or when he freaked out, smashed your dorm room up with a guitar, and got you both kicked out of the university?"

Kevin waved his hand dismissively. "Okay, so he wasn't right for me in the long term. The point is, you gotta be ready. How's that old commercial go? 'Life comes at you fast.'"

"Kevin, I know what you mean, but in the past month I've had a years' supply of drama and I don't need more."

He shrugged. "Well, love is drama, that's true. But it can also be a refuge from the drama."

I shook my head and shoved another hash brown in my mouth. "Whatever."

Kevin wasn't the first to tell me I should find a girlfriend, but my past experience had been discouraging. The most successful relationship I'd ever had was with a girl back in sophomore year. We met at a Halloween party. She was dressed as a cat, and I in a lame floppy-eared dog suit, so we pretty much had to get together. We dated through winter break and actually managed to get into bed together, one evening when her parents were out. But nothing happened. Well, something happened. She asked me to tell her why I loved her.

I don't remember what I said. Something offhand and vaguely raunchy that made her giggle and move in for a kiss, which was probably what she wanted me to say. But the question hung in my head. All the time we were kissing and rubbing each other's half-naked bodies, I was trying to think of the answer. The real answer. But I had nothing. She was attractive and friendly, but beyond that, why did I like spending time with her? We didn't like the same music, or movies, or fashion. We didn't share any hobbies. We didn't have long, intimate conversations about anything in particular. I had a list of facts about her that I had memorized- favorite food, favorite pop star, life goals, etc.- but none of it jumped out at me and said "yes, that." The more I thought about it, the more interested I was in being anywhere other than that bed. Eventually, we wound up just lying next to one another, tops off but pants on, looking into each other's eyes and seeing nothing but a vague, indefinable doubt. She couldn't answer the question either.

We broke up. We never actually said it- there was no huge argument or tearful pouring out of souls. We just found an excuse to get out of bed and dressed. Then I said I should be home before it got too late, kissed her goodnight, promised to call later, and never did. She never called me either. We knew it was no good. When I got home that night, I couldn't sleep, because the question kept nagging me. Finally, I had to conclude that the only reason we were together was because we were supposed to be. Because that's what teenagers do- they meet someone who makes their heart beat fast, date for a while to be sure they're not a douche, share gifts and special occasions and little jokes until "it's serious", then start looking for an opportunity to have sex. And after they do have sex… what? They're grown-ups? They're ready to spend their lives together? They have cherished memories of their youth? They have stories to brag about to their close friends so that they can be part of the not-virgin club? They don't have to get quiet and try not to look too ashamed or pathetic when some not-virgin starts braying about his own adventures south of the beltway? It all seemed so ridiculous. So meaningless. So much drama just to gain acceptance from people who you couldn't care less about.

After the breakup, I dated a few girls and got shot down by a few more, but nothing came of it. I didn't really mind. Truth be told, I had largely lost interest in the dating game. And once Dad got sick, I just had bigger fish to fry.

Kevin pulled into the school parking lot. Out the window, my fellow students milled about, chatting and putting it off getting to first period. Most of them hung around in groups with their friends. Some kept to themselves. A very few walked hand-in-hand, or were sneaking kisses off behind some cover. I wondered how long it would take the lovebirds to get burned by the game the same way I was. I wondered if they'd keep coming back to it after. I wondered if maybe they already had. Maybe I was the sane one for giving up. Or maybe Kevin was right and I was the other way around.

However it was, I had bigger things to wonder about right now. As Kevin parked the car, I heard the late bell ring out across the blacktop. "Well, anyway," I said, "right now my concern is not being late for my first day back. Thanks for the ride, Kev."

"No problem, man," he replied. "And hey, take it easy. Don't let the drama get to you."

_Like that ever works_, I thought.

Kevin was right about at least one thing- high school is high school. Every day, the same walks through the same halls to the same classes passing the same people along the way. Same gym class games, same staticky PA announcements, same books, same lockers, same awful cafeteria slop and meaningless conversations around the same tables with the same people. Sometimes the tedium got to you, but the routine could also be comforting. Just like with packing your books in the morning.

It was only the classes themselves that gave me trouble. I'd gone through as much of the make-up packets as I could, but I was still way behind. The teachers were understanding- they refrained from calling on me, and told me I could get extra help after school if I needed it. My fellow students also gave me space; I wasn't sure if that was understanding, awkwardness, or apathy. The latter would be understandable. After all, we had a little over two months left before graduation, and then a few weeks of summer, and then college came and we'd all scatter to the winds. Not much point in investing in relationships now. Bury the past.

In any event, the lack of interaction left me able to focus on the work. But that didn't make the furious note-scribbling any less stressful. Nor the equally furious annotations of things to look up or review later. After one period of Science and one of Math, I was almost ready to quit. Luckily fourth period was English, which was easy since we'd only just started on the latest unit. But before that was French- the subject where GPAs go to die.

In high school, practical students take Spanish. Ambitious ones take Latin. Tough guys and pasta-lovers take Italian. Pretentious or horny students take French. Most don't actually care, and just take whatever fits into their schedule. Nobody gets anything out of it except a renewed appreciation of English and a disgust of vocabulary lists.

I slid into my seat with resignation. Since Math was close by, I was always early. The student to my left had second period free, so she was always here when I walked in, hoodie over her head, face down, looking through her notes. As per my usual routine, I turned to speak to her. "Morning, Eve."

She turned with a look of surprise, pulling her hood back to make sure her eyes weren't deceived. "Aaron! You're back!"

"I seem to be, yeah. How's it going?"

"Same as usual. Nice to see you again!"

"Thanks, you too." There was something new about her. It had been so long, I noticed it a second before I realized it was new: Her hair, formerly blonde, was now a dark ocean blue, the old color just peeking out at the tips. "I like your hair," I said.

She smiled, turning bashfully away. "Thanks. I wanted to do something new with it. I'm glad someone likes it."

"Well, it definitely suits you." A pause. "So what'd I miss?"

"In class? Ugh, everything. Miss Bisette is nice and all, but she's a real slave driver. Everyone's behind."

I checked the cork board to the side of the room, where the latest quiz grades were posted. Eve's name was at the top, and she still only had an 80. "Everyone except you, apparently."

She shrugged. More and more students were drifting in, and I pulled out my textbooks to ready myself for forty minutes struggling through the language of love, diplomacy, and boring arthouse cinema.

Eve and I had known each other since the beginning of this school year. She had moved into town over the summer, and on the first day of school, I found myself sitting in Senior French next to a slim blonde girl that nobody had ever seen before. She hid from everyone's gaze behind a hood with cat-ear pockets. Just her being there was unusual. When you think about it, 12 years of school are spent in the company of the same people. You know only a handful personally, but you're together with your entire class. Even if you never say a word to them, you watch them grow up alongside you, from kids in cartoon shirts and Velcro sneakers to men and women making fashion choices they will be very embarrassed about five or ten years later. You even learn about their major life events- if not from them personally, than through friends of friends, or the ever-reliable lunchtime rumor mill. If you pay close attention through the whole 12 years, you could easily put together a classmate's life story without ever even knowing their name.

So when somebody shows up whom nobody has even seen or known, people take notice. Here, without warning, is a stranger. An anomaly. A complete unknown. And you have two options. One is to exercise caution. Keep your distance. Pay attention, but don't make eye contact. For all you know, they could be a psycho who kills small animals for fun. You don't know what you're dealing with.

The other option, which I took, is to introduce yourself and actually find out what you're dealing with. I don't really remember why I did it. Maybe curiosity, maybe just simple courtesy. Maybe because we were both in class early, and talking to her was better than having to sit in silence trying not to think about Dad. In any event, I said hi and, after some coaxing, managed to get her talking.

As it turned out, Eve didn't kill small animals for fun. She was an ordinary student, albeit a quiet one. She was initially reticent to speak, possibly because she didn't want to be heard. There was a subtle but perceptible cadence in Eve's voice that sounded off, like she was always just recovering from a sore throat. After you'd known her for awhile, you barely noticed it, but as the new kid, it put a target on her back. High school is full of people looking to build themselves up by tearing someone else down. Eve found her voice soon enough; she needed it to return the quips and barbs that were constantly being sent her way.

For my part, I didn't mind talking to Eve at all. Every day, before French class started, we would spend a few minutes chatting idly about whatever. Over the course of these micro-conversations, I learned that she liked drawing, and sitting out on the bleachers during lunch, and wearing that cat-eared hoodie, and tough but cute fashion accessories- a black choker necklace, a belt with a dog's pawprint on it, a wallet chain. I'd picked up that last little bit of accessorizing from her, which she was flattered by. She often asked about places to go around town- where to shop for clothes, to see a movie, which supermarket had the fresh vegetables, etc.- and I was happy to oblige. I also helped her find her feet in her new school, letting her in on who the assholes and troublemakers were, which teachers to avoid, where to get lunch off-campus when the cafeteria slop didn't cut it, and all the little survival tips they don't teach you in class. Steadily, we built up a rapport.

It wasn't much, but I'd come to treasure these brief minutes chatting and joking around before French class. Seeing Eve smile always made me smile too. With what I was dealing with at home, even the tiniest bit of friendliness was a relief. I had other friends too, at least until I managed to push them away. But with Eve I had no commitments. No need to call later to finish our discussion, or return that whatever-it-was I'd borrowed, or make up excuses for not coming to the movies because I didn't want to say I was visiting Dad in the hospital again. Just a little bit of small talk, no strings attached. That was all we had, and all we ever wanted or needed from each other.

Until that day.

"I'm sorry about your dad," she said.

I winced. People always say that with the best of intentions, but they never realize it's salting a fresh wound. "Thanks."

"You know, if you want to talk..."

"Nah, it's alright. I've been to a counselor. Right now… honestly, I'd just rather not think about it."

"Okay. It's just…" she had been looking at me, but now she turned away, focusing on the books on her desk. "I know what it's like, Aaron. Losing someone. My parents… they both died last year. That's why I moved here."

I raised an eyebrow. "I never knew that."

She laughed, just a bit. "That's because I never told you. I guess… well, I guess I didn't want to talk about it either."

"Yeah, well… right now I've got more current problems to deal with. Like getting my grades back up after a month out of school. And this class is definitely the worst; I don't know how you manage to stay on top of it."

"Studying helps," she said wryly.

"Yeah, but we have to study for every class. Who's supposed to have so much time?"

Eve smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair aside. "Well, I guess I'm just… naturally talented at studying."

"What, like photographic memory or something?"

"No, I just pick up things fast, I suppose. Ever since I was young."

"Really? Must be handy."

"Heh… yeah."

A pause.

"I can curl my tongue," I said.

"Huh?", she asked, turning to me with a quizzical look.

I stuck out my tongue, and curled it up into a u shape with the edges touching. "Thee?" I said.

Eve laughed.

"Yeah, that's really my only talent. Trade you?"

She feigned a thoughtful face. "Mmm… tempting, but no. I'd rather be topping the grade lists."

"Aw, man..."

By now the class was almost full. The clock read about ten seconds until the bell. Miss Bisette was writing today's vocabulary on the chalkboard. I checked my notes to see if I could recognize them.

"Hey, Aaron…," Eve said.

"Hmm?"

"You know the fountain in the park?"

"Yeah."

"Well… I go there in the evening sometimes, when I need to get out of the house. It's quiet and peaceful around sunset. If you ever want to talk, or just hang out, swing by."

The invitation caught me off guard. "Uh… thanks. Thanks, I will sometime."

"And remember to bring that sense of humor of yours." she said, smiling.

I snickered. "I'll try not to forget it at home."

Then the bell rang, and we steeled ourselves for battle with Ms. Bisette's army of Gaulish adjectives.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

SO YOU TAKE A PICTURE OF SOMETHING YOU SEE

I hadn't planned to take Eve up on that offer. In fact, by the end of fourth period I'd forgotten all about it; buried under a mountain of notes and problems. But after getting home that evening I wound up in a huge three-way shouting match. I walked in to find Mom watching the TV, still lying on the couch in her bathrobe and looking like she'd barely moved since the morning. I lost it and started yelling at her, then at Diane for letting her stay there all day, then they both started yelling at me. It ended when I hurled my backpack across the room (hitting nothing but the floor, thankfully) and stormed out the front door.

I spent an hour wandering the streets, more or less at random, trying to cool down. Whether through chance or some kind of homing instinct, I wound up halfway across town, in the familiar cul-de-sac, outside of our old house. It seemed pretty much as it had always been, aside from the Realtor's sign out front. But when I looked in the big bay window, the living room was empty. Barren. Bookshelves, furniture, entertainment center, ugly brown things on the walls, all of them gone. All of them sold to help pay the debts, or just thrown out. I walked over to the sign and thumped it petulantly. These signs were becoming more and more common.

In old movies from the 80's, the streets were alive this time of evening. Kids were running around, riding bikes, playing hockey in the street. Moms were outside working on their gardens, chatting with the neighbors. Dads were just getting home from the office. I never knew that world. For as long as I remembered, I'd spent my free time inside, in front of game consoles and cartoons. All the kids in the neighborhood did. If we played together, it was in someone else's living room or basement or backyard. And parents were cool with that. They'd gripe about us not getting exercise, sure, but they knew if we stayed inside we couldn't get snatched by pedos, or get our arms broken playing too rough, or do some stupid shit that would get them sued by the neighbors. The hustle and bustle of the evening moved indoors. The sidewalks became the no mans land between fiefdoms marked off by white picket fences and dominated by three bedroom castles.

And now these Realtor's signs, outside the houses that once upon a time were bought by couples with newborns as a sign that they had "made it". The lucky ones had seen the kids graduate and moved to Florida. Others had lost their jobs, or gotten divorced, or maxed their credit cards, or whatever mistakes or misfortunes. A few just decided it wasn't worth it. In time the houses would be bought, but not by couples with newborns. They'd be bought by flippers, who would sell them to other flippers, who would chop them up into two to four rental units apiece and rent them out to whoever could afford them. Then, when they couldn't make a profit, they'd sell them to someone else. Someone convinced he could succeed where the last landlord had failed. And so on until the house burns down or falls down due to neglect. And then a chain link fence goes up around the lot, with yet another Realtor's sign hanging on the outside. Maybe forever.

I walked away. There was nothing here for me. Bury the past.

By now the sun was getting low and I figured I should be getting home. So I got a map on my phone and saw that the route would take me past the park. That's when I remembered what Eve had said, about hanging out near the fountain when she needed some peace. Did I have time to swing by before sunset? _Fuck it_, I thought. I was still mad enough at Mom and Diane to make them put my dinner in the freezer.

The park had a name- named after some politician from way back when- but everyone just called it "the park". It sat in front of what had once been the town hall, but was now a catering hall popular for weddings. It was the length of several blocks. Occasionally events like picnics or festivals were held here, but mostly it was used by joggers and dog-walkers. Half of it was flat landscaped grass, the other half was stands of trees. Paved walking paths, lit by lampposts in the nighttime, wove hither and yon throughout the whole thing. The paths converged on a large fountain surrounded by a brick plaza with benches and trashcans along the perimeter. The steady crashing of water from the fountain was soothing- when it wasn't being overpowered by some idiot pumping his bass at maximum volume, at least.

When I ran into Eve she was dancing to her music, while Tyrone's radio blasted hip-hop from the other side of the fountain. I waited to approach until Eve was done dancing and sat back down. I was five feet away before she saw my shadow and looked up. On seeing me, she pulled her headphones down and hung them around her neck. She tapped the phone sitting next to her and the music cut off.

"Hey there, Aaron," she said.

"Hey. How's it going?" The bass thumping from the other side of the fountain was oppressive- at least until you got used to it- but not very loud. You felt it more than you heard it. So it was no problem for us to talk normally.

"Not too bad," Eve replied. "You?"

"Eh… drama at home."

A look of concern crossed her face. "Serious drama?"

"Nah, nothing too bad. Got into a big yelling match because..." I trailed off. Now that I thought about it, 'because my Mom is struggling with depression and my Aunt can't do anything about it' probably made _me_ the asshole in the situation. "Ah, it's just stupid shit," I finished. "Never mind me, what're you up to?"

Eve shrugged. "Hanging out. Listening to music. Drawing."

"Drawing what?"

"Just doodles."

"Can I see?"

"Umm...", she brushed a stray lock of hair away and bit her lip. I realized late that I'd never seen her show her sketch pad to anybody in school. It might be private. I was about to take back my request when she said, "well… okay, if you want to."

She made room on the pavement next to her and I sat down. On her sketch pad was a colored pencil drawing of a superhero- a red-haired, blue-eyed woman in a traditional fist-out flying pose. She was dressed in a skirt and bare midriff costume reminiscent of supergirl, but with a white and purple color scheme. It was surprisingly well-done; maybe not professional-grade, but certainly not the kind of thing you'd describe as a "doodle".

"That's nice," I said, speaking my mind.

"You think so?", she asked, in the tone of an artist faking cool while being praised.

"Yeah. Yeah it is. The lavender here really complements the hair. Is this an original character?"

"Kinda. It's my sister, Grace. Well, it's based on her. I didn't feel like trying to draw in all her tattoos."

"Tattoos?"

"Yeah, she's got, like, a wing here on her shoulder, a rose on the other shoulder, a heart with an arrow over her heart, a thorny vine circling her thigh- she's a tattoo artist herself, so she's her own personal billboard."

"Sounds like a pretty cool woman."

"She used to be. But then, well..." she trailed off.

"What?"

Eve waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing, it's depressing."

It was probably to do with their parents' dying. Deciding not to press her, I turned the page. The next sketch was a ninja girl in a revealing outfit, drawn in an anime style, with blue hair tied in a high ponytail, thick lips that might be blowing a kiss, and what the internet calls "big anime tiddies". She faced the viewer with a katana at her side, and a hand positioned to draw it and strike at any minute.

"That's good too," I said. "Really nice…", 'boobs', I wanted to say. "sense of… female power in it. I like that pose, too. Lot of energy. Tension. Like she's about to jump out of the page and cut you in half."

She nodded swiftly, with a big smile. "Yeah, I'm really proud of that one. I just wish Miss Ross liked it as much as you."

"She doesn't?" I asked. Miss Ross- the school's art teacher- preferred realism to cartoon or anime work, but she was generally a fair critic, assessing assignments by what went into them rather than if it appealed to her personally.

Eve groaned. "She's impossible! I've been working on an assignment for a month, I've turned in a dozen things, but she keeps kicking them back to me!"

I arched an eyebrow. "Can she do that? Keep an assignment grade up in the air for god knows how long, I mean?"

"It's extra credit."

I blinked. "Uh… then why not just..."

"Because after she rejected my first attempt, it became a matter of pride not to give up!" she shouted. "I mean, I'm good at drawing, it should be easy, but... her standards are… shit, I don't even know what she's looking for."

"Huh," I said, calmly. "Well, I took her class last year and didn't have any trouble with her. Then again, I have heard people say she plays favorites- maybe I was just one of them. Maybe she fell for my rugged good looks." I slicked my hair back and threw my gaze off into the distance with a snooty face.

Eve laughed. "Don't flatter yourself, Aaron."

I turned the page again, revealing a page of sketches- studies of flowers and trees, mostly.

"But hey," Eve said, "I think I saw one of your drawings hanging up in the classroom. Charcoal drawing, a bunch of crosses, and in front of them the shadow of a man with a purple flame in his hand."

I half-smiled. "It was supposed to be a crystal, but yeah, that was my work. Miss Ross was real big on it. Said it had a lot of emotion. Which was the same thing she told me pretty much all the time."

"Was that a polite way of saying your technique sucked?" Eve asked wryly.

"Well, I wasn't as good as you, but I don't think I was too bad. If I still had those drawings, I'd let you judge for yourself, but I threw them out."

Eve reacted like I had just confessed to being a child killer. "You what?!"

"Threw them out."

"Why?", she asked, disbelieving.

It took me a moment to gather up what I wanted to say. "Well… the reason Miss Ross said they had so much emotion is… my Dad was sick at the time. I kept a brave face, didn't let anybody know because I didn't want the pity. Maybe I succeeded too well there. My friends- none of them ever guessed what I was going through, but they must have noticed I was down all the time. Always bringing down the mood. And, one by one, they decided I was just too much of a downer to hang out with…," I paused, realizing I was digressing from the subject. "Anyway, it all came out in my art, and that's what Miss Ross picked up on. But after Dad died, I just wanted to get on with my life. Leave it behind. Bury the past. So when we lost the house and had to move in with Aunt Diane, I went through those drawings and just… trashed them all. I didn't want them around, reminding me of the last year."

I fell silent, staring off into the distance. I felt Eve's hand, small and delicate, take hold of my own and squeeze it. "I'm sorry, Aaron."

I was about to say something else, something about how powerless it had made me feel to watch him waste away slowly, but before I could get two words out an empty bottle of iced tea struck the ground in front of me hard enough to crack. We both started out of the melancholy. Eve jumped to her feet and spun around. "Hey, what the fuck, Tyrone?! I'm sitting here!"

"Oh, shit!" Tyrone said. "Sorry, Blue!"

"My fault," Chico cut in. "Sorry, Blue, I didn't see you there!"

Tyrone looked around the fountain and saw me sitting next to where Eve was standing. "Well, well, looks like we got some fresh meat around the fountain."

Chad followed Tyrone's gaze and saw me. "Who's the boyfriend, Blue?"

Eve blushed furiously. "He's not… we're just hanging out!"

"Hey, hey," said Chad with a smile. "It's all good, baby, I ain't the jealous type. I know your heart belongs to Big Chad." He grabbed his crotch as he said it and I could practically see Eve's stomach turn. "That's… shut up! You're disgusting!" she said.

Tyrone was laughing. "Relax, girl, Chad's just playin'."

"It's not funny!"

More laughter. Chad spoke up again. "Don't get your panties all twisted. We know who you'll be coming 'round to when you need a real man to hold you tight." He did a smooth little dance step. Eve gave him a sneer worthy of Sid Vicious and an upraised middle finger to go with it. Still chuckling, Tyrone and his crew ducked out of sight. Eve sat down on the rim of the fountain, seething. I was suddenly conscious once again of the persistent thumping of the bass from Tyrone's stereo.

"I thought this place was supposed to be peaceful", I remarked.

"It was up until about two weeks ago. I could sit here, listening to the nightingales and the sound of the water, and just relax and draw. But then those assholes started coming by every damn evening with their damn stereo and their clowning around and their throwing shit through the fountain to see if they can get the water to bounce it in the air..." she trailed off, still fuming.

"Why don't you just find someplace else to hang, then?"

"Because I was here first, dammit! Why should I be the one to leave?" She made an exasperated sigh and slumped forward. "Don't listen to the shit they say about me and them, because… there's nothing, okay?"

I snickered and checked to see if they could see us. "Oh, I'm not so sure there's _nothing_. I can see them at home, in bed, thinking of you, and going like ohhhhhh..." I mimed masturbation while making the goofiest, ugliest o-faces I could. Eve doubled over laughing.

"No, no…," Eve said. "It would be more like auuuuugh...". She made an even stupider-looking face, and we both laughed.

"Well," I said, "at least they got us laughing."

"Oh, yeah, it was getting so emo over here! You were about five seconds away from cutting yourself and writing bad poetry.

I laughed, "Yeah, with my blood." We both laughed. Then I got up from the ground to sit next to her on the rim of the fountain. I handed her sketchbook back. "Show me some more. What are you most proud of?"

She snickered. "I have to pick just one?"

I shrugged. "Pick one. Pick a few. Pick 'em all if you want. We got all night."

Eve smiled.

We spent a long time going through her sketchbook. Eve would talk about why she did this or how she was trying to make that work, and I would tell her what I thought. She really did have talent. Some of her work was still lifes, mostly of trees and flowers and such that she'd seen around. Others were abstract or iconographic. Some she identified as replicas of her sister's art. But her specialty was figure drawing, usually in a cartoon or anime style, and it was here that she shone most brightly. Vibrant and colorful, her work had a true sense of life and energy to it. Heroes, villains, everyday people, portraits, monsters, and at least one vampire. They all practically leaped off the page.

Before long I looked up and saw the streetlights had come on. Worried, I checked my phone. "Shit, it's that late?" I stood up. "I'm sorry, I should get home."

"What time is it?" Eve asked.

"Seven."

"Crap, I'd better get home too." She closed her sketchbook and started stuffing it into her backpack. "Grace is going to kill me. But, uhh… thanks for coming around. It was… nice to just... hang out with someone I can tolerate."

"Yeah, I had fun, too. Thanks for showing me your art, it's really cool."

"Thanks."

I stood there and smiled at her. She sat there and smiled back. Neither of us made any move to leave. _Say something, you idiot_, I thought to myself. "So, hey," I began, "if you wanna… you know..."

I was interrupted when an empty can of energy drink flew in from nowhere and bonked me on the head. "Ouch!" I exclaimed.

Eve sprung to her feet and whirled around to see that Tyrone and his gang had come around to our side of the fountain. They laughed at my misfortune. "Sorry, homes," Tyrone said, "hope that didn't sting too much."

"Yeah, sorry," said Chad. "I was actually aiming for Little Blue Riding Hood there. Hoped she might let me kiss the boo boo." He made kissing gestures at Eve, who winced in revulsion. Tyrone gave Chad a disapproving look, but he didn't seem to notice.

Tyrone and his crew were seniors at school, same as Eve and I. I'd seen them in the halls, though I'd never talked to them. They always moved as a trio. Even if they took different classes, somehow they were always together between periods, like a single, cohesive organism.

Chico was Hispanic, and liked to think he was suave. He was tall but thin, with a pierced ear, a pierced eyebrow, a scraggly, patchy excuse for a mustache and soul patch, and a swaggering walk. He wore preppy-style polo shirts with the humblebrag alligator positioned so that it was just noticeable, and a cap on backwards to signify both style and nonconformity.

Chad was a white guy who was on track for a private university in the fall and was getting a head start on being a douchebag fratboy. He had a collection of nearly-identical tank-top shirts, all chosen specifically to show off the tribal tattoo on his shoulder. He bleached and gelled his hair and tied a bandanna around it in a style that he probably hoped looked vaguely but not geekily super saiyan. Right now he held a joint in his fingers- probably borrowed from Tyrone.

Tyrone himself was a tall, broad-shouldered black kid with a light beard and mustache somewhat better than Chico's. He may or may not have been Jamaican, but either way he leaned into it with dreadlocks and a black/yellow/green shirt with the silhouette of a cannabis leaf on it. He also had an ostentatious necklace in the shape of a sequined microphone which advertised his hopes and dreams to the world at large. When the cops weren't around, he often had a joint hanging from either his lips or his ear.

Between them, these three were a cross-section of the suburban hip-hop fandom. They liked strutting their stuff and acting tough and were some of the biggest fakes in school. Nobody would have cared except that their idea of street cred was being dicks to everybody.

"The fuck are you doing here, Tyrone?", Eve said, stepping over to get in his face.

"Relax, relax," Tyrone said, sidestepping around Eve. "we just came over to pick up our trash." He walked over and grabbed the bottle from earlier. He held out his hand to me, and I picked up the can from my feet and lobbed it over to him. He sauntered over to a trashcan nearby to drop them off.

"But you know," Tyrone continued, "if you're bored with white boy here, you could always come around and hang with us."

"Yeah, Blue," Chad added. "We know how to treat you right." He took a short drag from his joint and blew the smoke in Eve's face. He held the joint out to Eve. "Taste good? Want a hit?"

Eve glared, waving the smoke away. "I took a hit from you once, and all I got from it was a pile of dumb pick-up lines. Get lost."

Chad smirked, putting the joint back in his mouth and ambling over to the fountain where Eve had left her things. "Oh, you'll come around. You just wait." He waved the lit joint under Eve's nose. One of these days you'll get the urgin'…" He grabbed his crotch and laughed a dry, cackling laugh.

Tyrone, who'd gotten back from his trash run, grabbed the joint out of Chad's hand "Hey man, you're pretty generous with someone else'sshit."

Chad scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. "Man, whatever."

Meanwhile, Chico has wandered over to the fountain. "Hey, Blue, what you got here?" He leaned down and took Eve's sketchbook out of her backpack.

Eve's eye's went wide. "Don't touch that!"

"Relax, girl. Just want to see if you've drawn me."

"Give it back!" She lunged for him, but Chad got in her way. She tried to get around him, but he blocked her. Chico ignored the fuss and flipped the book open to a random page. His eyes went wide. "WOOOOO-EEE! Will you take a look at that!" He flipped the book around to reveal the blue-haired ninja girl. "Check out the hooters on her!"

"Sheeee-it!", Chad said, looking over his shoulder. "That is some nice titties."

"Give it back!", Eve yelled. She shoved Chad, but he didn't move.

"Easy girl," Chico continued. "I'm just admiring your work. Looks like some anime shit. I thought only Asians did that. You Asian, girl?"

"Give it back!" Eve was red in the face.

"What you think, Chad?" Chico asked. "She look a little Asian to you?"

"Well, I dunno," Chad said with a dumbass grin. "I thought Asian girls were supposed to be all submissive and shit. Though it might explain why she's got flat tits and a flatter ass." All three burst out laughing at this. Eve stepped back, distress written all over her face as she heard it. She looked like she was either going to burst into tears or start swinging wildly, no idea which.

"Hey!" I cut in forcefully, "I think you'd better give her stuff back, like she asks."

"Ah, relax white boy," Tyrone said with a smile. "We just playing around. Chico, give it back."

Chico obediently held the sketchpad out to Eve, who snatched it out of his hands, perhaps thinking he might pull it back to taunt her further. She held it to her chest like it was a child and glared bullets at all three.

"Aw, girl, that look wounds me. Right here," Chico said, putting a hand over his heart with a mocking sniffle.

"I think maybe you better make it up to him somehow," Chad said creepily.

"Man, since when do you think, white boy #2?", Tyrone said. He turned around and started to amble back the way he'd come. "Come on, my favorite jam's up next. When Blue wants a fun time, she knows where to come."

Tyrone's flunkies sauntered off after him. Chad called back to Eve over his shoulder. "Yeah, get yourself some meat on that skinny ass of yours, I'll have you too."

"We can run a train on you all night!" Chico added.

They laughed. Eve flipped them off as they retreated, but it wasn't nearly as awesome as the first time.

I shook my head. "God, what a bunch of assholes. You okay, Eve?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." she pulled up her hood, hiding her face in a manner that told me she was something less than fine. "Let's go, we should be getting home."

I looked around the fountain to where those wannabe thugs were hanging out. They were dancing and lip-syncing to the music without a care in the world. Seeing that next to Eve being on the verge of tears made something inside me boil.

"Not just yet," I said, striding purposefully off to circle the fountain.

"Aaron, don't…," Eve called after me.

I cut her off. "They shouldn't be talking to you like that."

Engrossed in the music, none of the three wannabes noticed me until I was standing almost beside Tyrone. "Hey!" I barked.

Now they did notice, and all eyes turned to me.

"Stealing a girl's art to make fun of her, Tyrone?" I said. "What is this, grade school?"

For a second Tyrone was confused. Then he laughed. "Look at white boy, tryin' to act all hard."

"Better than acting like a dickhead! This how you get girls? Let them take a hit off you once upon a time and then act like you owns them for life."

Tyrone flinched. "Man, you want to step off, white boy."

"Why should I? You're the assh..."

Tyrone raised his voice. "Because, on account of my family history, I don't take kindly to talk about owning people."

If I had taken a moment to think about what he meant, I might not have retorted, "Yeah, well on account of my family, I know how to treat women with respect!"

But of course, that's exactly what I said. Angry people aren't the best thinkers.

Tyrone stood up to his full height. He wasn't a giant, but he had at least two inches on me. He glared down at me with the hardest face I'd ever seen. Nobody was laughing. Or even smiling. "You don't talk to me about respect, white boy. What does any of this have to do with you?"

Suddenly, I wasn't Aaron anymore. I was an angry, skinny kid facing down a tall, broad-shouldered, grim-faced black man who was under no obligation to put up with my shit.

In hindsight, maybe this hadn't been such a bright idea. Tyrone shouldn't have been harassing Eve, but my getting his face with some ill-considered remarks was the figurative eye for an eye that could leave the whole world blind. Unfortunately, there were no take-backs. After having both of us stepped up ready to defend ourselves, we were now obliged to stand our ground. If we backed off, we would look unwilling or unable to defend ourselves, and let the world know we could be abused with impunity. So that wasn't going to happen. But if either of us started punching, it would go even worse. One of us would get beaten up, and the other would have to deal with the consequences, which could be anything from being called racist to getting arrested for assault to getting recorded and plastered all over YouTube by someone who happened to be passing by. So we had to stand here, wasting precious moments of our lives posing at each other, until the inevitable happened and we both got bruised. And in the meantime, we got to look like idiots having an X-treme Staring Contest.

Maybe that's American race relations in a nutshell. Why can't we all just get along? Because we're too busy trying to prove to each other that we are Not To Be Fucked With.

Despite the tension, I tried to keep a cool head when I spoke. "What this has to do with me is that I don't like seeing you give Eve a hard time. So stop it. There's no reason for it. All she wants is to sit by the fountain and draw. All you want is to sit over here with your weed and your music. There's plenty enough fountain for everyone, so why be a dick about it?"

Tyrone looked at me sideways- perhaps he had been expecting something more aggressive- then nodded slowly. "Alright, that's reasonable. One problem, though, and that's that I don't just take orders from any puffed-up white kid with an attitude. You want my respect, we're gonna battle."

Tyrone walked over to the stereo, where there was a bag lying on the ground. Chad and Chico broke into big smiles. "Yeah," Chad said, clapping his hands.

I looked from one of them to the other, hoping they couldn't see me sweat. "What, three on one? You that afraid of me?"

Tyrone snickered. "Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you, white boy? Get a beating from us, run away crying, flag down some cop, tell him about the big scary black man who gave him those bruises, get me sent away for five to ten? I don't think so. What I mean is a rap battle!"

Tyrone dug through the bag and pulled out two microphones. He lobbed one over to me. "Rap battle?", I said.

"Three verses, three rounds," Tyrone said, tossing the second mike over to Chico. "Chico will go first. Once he's done, it's your turn. Then you gotta face Chad and me. Best of three wins. If it's you, we'll give Little Blue her space, like you want. If we win, this becomes our turf, and you respect our right to do what we want. That's it. So, you got the balls?"

I barely knew the first thing about hip-hop. I preferred rock music. But when I thought about it, a loss just meant things would continue as they already were. The same result as if I turned them down and walked away. Nothing to lose.

Well, nothing except my pride, and what was that worth?

"Yeah, alright, I'm down."

"Alright then," Tyrone said. "Let's get to it. Chico, show him what you got!"

"Yeah, man, I'm gonna smoke this little cracker like a pound of bacon!" Chico said while throwing signs that I suspected would be as likely to get him laughed at as shot in the wrong neighborhood.

Also, crackers aren't usually smoked, and also #2, I think he might have stolen that taunt from Vanilla Ice.

Tyrone cranked up a track with a heavy beat, and after a few "Uh! Uh!"s to prepare, Chico laid it down.

"_Look at lil' white boy, actin' all tough,_

_Better step back 'cuz things about to get rough._

_I spit like a dragon and I send crackers flying,_

_You'll be pissin', and runnin', or rollin' on the ground dyin'._

_You ain't no rapper, you better get learned,_

_Step to this crew, man, you gonna get burned!_"

He stepped back and threw his hands wide in a gesture of triumph. From the crew's reaction, his exuberance was premature.

"Gee, go a little easier on him, Chico," Chad said.

"Yeah, I think you just spent your whole turn talking about how you were going to burn him and never got around to it," Tyrone added.

Chico sneered at them. "Man, fuck you both. This little shit ain't worth my best."

"Mmm, I think that might have _been_ your best, Chico," Tyrone said. "But hey, nothing wrong with a little warm-up before the main event. Let's see what white boy has to say 'bout that. You ready?"

I nodded, though I didn't feel it.

"Alright. Heeeeere we go."

He cued up a new track on the stereo. I nodded my head along and took perhaps to long to come up with my first line.

"_Is that all you got? Cheap shots at my race?_

_Come down here, big man, you can suck on my… face._"

Tyrone started laughing. I had to do better than that. I tried to think of something I could use and plucked out something I'd heard on MTV back when they still played music.

"_You wack, you stupid, Yo' girl's a ho_,"

Chad said "Whaaaat?" I couldn't tell if that was good or not. Chico cracked a smile.

_Yo momma's piss ugly, and all she does is blow_,"

I suddenly though of a twist to put on that.

"_Out her ass! And stink just as… as bad as your rhymes._"

Tyrone was nearly doubled over laughing. The others were cracking up too.

"_I'm done with you, Chico. Time's up, out of time!_"

As the track ground to a halt, the three wannabe-gangstas just kept laughing. Eventually, Tyrone settled down enough to actually speak. "Man, I don't even know where to begin! His momma farts? That's your big burn? And fuck's sake, boy, you do NOT steal a line from D-M-fucking-X and then make it look bad!" He came up and grabbed the mic out of my hand. "Man, we're not even going to go to round 2, I'm putting you out of your misery right here."

"That wasn't our deal!", I protested.

"Well, we're changing the deal, white boy. You don't like it, why don't we ask what your girl thinks. Oh Bluuuuue?"

I turned around and looked for Eve. She wasn't there. I walked halfway around the fountain, to where I could see where we'd been sitting. No sign of Eve. Her backpack was gone too.

"That's right," said Tyrone. "She bounced while her white knight was dyin' over here. You stank so bad, you drove her all the way home!" he cracked up again.

My heart sank in my chest. Eve was gone, and these assholes were still laughing at me. "Man, just go home," Tyrone said. "Your way out of your league around here. But if you see Blue, tell her she's welcome at _our_ fountain any day of the week!"

"And leave her panties at home, they'll just get in the way!" Chad added.

They walked back to their spot, laughing, and leaving me standing there, feeling like an idiot. My fists clenched, my face burned, my teeth ground. Maybe my pride was a bit much to lose, after all. But there was nothing I could do about it. Inevitably, I walked home, feeling sorry for myself.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

I'LL BE THE BEAUTY QUEEN IN TEARS

Standing up for a girl is a relatively cool thing to do, but failing to make good when called out is the epitome of Not Cool. For a moment that night, I had entertained the thought of trying to be more than friends with Eve, but I was now sure that opportunity was gone. The next day in French I said hi, as usual, and we talked about unimportant shit, also as usual. Neither of us brought up the previous night. The day after that, same thing. I got the message. But, like I'd told Kevin, I didn't have much time for romance anyway. I had to catch up on my studies, and if I had time, maybe try and re-connect with my old friends. Eve was a Monday problem, and it was now Wednesday. Bury the past.

And that might have been the end of the story, if not for the most hated student in the entire school: (Fucking) Annie. Annie was a junior who had taken Italian in 9th grade and Latin in 10th. She was short for her age, and had a rather obvious Napoleon complex. On account of being an honors student and a first-rate ass-kisser, she had been granted the powers of a hall monitor, which she exercised with righteous fury and terrible anger. Students cringed and cowered at the sight of her walking the halls with her notepad, primed and ready to deliver after-school detention at a moment's notice. That notepad took no shit. Nor did her piercing gaze, tight ponytail, knee-length skirt, burgundy sweater-vest the color of dried blood, or block-lettered paper badge saying "Hall Monitor" on a lanyard around her neck. She meant business, and her business was getting in your business. Just give her an excuse, this Dirty Harry of the mean hallways of high school.

The Friday of my first week back, Eve gave her an excuse. I walked into the cafeteria during lunchtime to find everyone's attention on the register area, where Eve and Annie were locked in mortal verbal combat. Kevin, manning the register as always, stood back with a worried look.

"For god's sake, Annie, it's a fucking orange!", Eve said, waving an orange in the other girl's face.

Annie stood with arms crossed in front of her, her face icy in the face of Eve's aggression. "It is shoplifting. Theft. You do realize that there are rules against this sort of thing, don't you?"

"I know that! But…"

"'But' nothing! You took that without paying, that's not only against school rules, it's against the law."

"It's an orange! It costs a dollar!"

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble paying for it, hmm? Tell me, is there a purpose for you stealing food, besides to thumb your nose at authority?"

At this point Kevin spoke up in an attempt to cool things down. "Whoa, whoa! Ladies, calm down. Annie, come on, this isn't worth such a fuss. If she can't pay, I'll spot her a buck out of my..."

"And make yourself an accessory after the fact? Because I have no problem calling the cops on both of you."

Eve rolled her eyes. Kevin tried not to laugh. "Look, Annie," he said, "think about this for a minute. Isn't it kind of silly? I mean, you're making a big deal over..."

"Theft of school property IS a big deal," Annie insisted.

"Yeah, but isn't it..." he leaned in and spoke too softly for me to hear.

Annie didn't bother with decorum. "Rules are rules. And don't patronize me. You may be an employee of the school, but my reports go directly to the administration. If you disagree with them, maybe the… STOP WHERE YOU ARE!"

That last was directed at Eve, who had been trying to slip away with the orange while Annie and Kevin are occupied.

"You are testing my patience, delinquent!" Annie proclaimed. "You are not walking away with school property, you are returning it RIGHT NOW before I put you on the list for detention to-"

Eve whirled and threw the orange at the fruit display. Fortunately, Kevin caught it in the air before it could hit anything. Eve turned back around, pulled her hood close around her face, and kept walking.

"Throwing things is also prohibited!", Annie yelled. Without breaking stride, Eve flipped her off over her shoulder.

"As are obscene gestures, especially at..." But Annie's parting shot was cut off by Eve shoving open the door to the parking lot and vanishing.

The door closed with a clang. For a second the lunchroom was utterly silent, as Annie seethed at the door. Than a stern look at the crowd had everyone in a rush to resume their previous conversations. With what passes for order in the lunchroom restored, Annie turned on her heels and took her leave.

I walked up to the register and grabbed a pack of cookies from the shelves. We were out at home. "Nice catch," I said to Kevin.

"Yeah, just like little league back in 6th grade." He rung up my cookies while I dug in my pants for my wallet.

"What was that about, anyway?" I asked.

"Well, the blue-haired girl, Eve… you know her?"

"Yeah, actually. She sits next to me in French."

Kevin was a bit thrown. "Really? You never mentioned that."

I shrugged. "I guess it never came up. We don't really know each other all that well, she and I."

"Huh. Well, anyway, every once in a blue moon, she comes in here with no money, and I let her take something small. Nothing fancy or expensive, mind you, just something to keep her from collapsing from starvation in the middle of gym."

"And Annie thinks keeping the students fed is a felony?"

"That's what I told her! But she's all like 'Rules are rules'."

"Yeah, rules are rules for as long as she can use them to bludgeon the student body." I shook my head. "Fucking Annie."

"Fucking Annie," Kevin agreed.

I laid two dollar bills on the counter. Extortionist prices for a packet of four chocolate-chip cookies was the administration's way of encouraging us to eat healthy. "Can she actually get you in trouble for this?"

Kevin smiled. "Only in her own mind. Annie doesn't have as much power as she wants everyone to think. She can give students detention for the current day, but for anything more than that, she has to make a recommendation to the principal. Who smiles and nods and then tosses them in the trash because she gives her thirty a week!" He chuckled.

"If she's such a pain, why do they even keep her around?"

"Who knows. Inertia, maybe. Or maybe they're hoping a little fear will keep the student body in line. But her time will come. She's using up faculty goodwill at an astonishing rate. Between you and me, even my boss has been whispering 'Fucking Annie' under her breath"

"And in the meantime, she gets to deny us our lunch."

Kevin shrugged. "High school is high school..."

"- and high school is drama," I finished. I looked off toward the door that Eve had stormed out of. Then I reached for the shelf of cookies again. "Ring up another one for me."

When the weather was good, students were allowed to spend lunch or free periods outside, and the schoolyard bustled with the low hum of conversation. People sat in groups on the blacktop or the athletic fields, assuming they weren't in use for gym or sports practice. Knowing that Eve favored the bleachers, I didn't have to look long to find her. Engrossed in drawing, she didn't notice me when I slid onto the bench next to her and started unpacking my lunch.

"Hey," I said. "I saw what happened inside."

She growled, her pencil moving on the paper with more force than necessary. "Fucking Annie."

"Yeah, fucking Annie. You allergic to peanuts?" I asked.

She looked up. "Uh... no," she responded quizzically. "Why?"

I unwrapped my PBJ from wax paper and handed half to her. "Here."

She smiled and flushed a little in embarrassment. "Oh, uh… it's okay, I'll just..."

"Take it," I insisted, pushing it towards her. "What kind of a guy would I be if I let my friends go hungry?"

After considering a minute, her hunger won out over her modesty. She laid her sketchbook aside and took the sandwich. "Thank you," she said.

"Nothing to it," I replied.

She took a large bite and "mmm"ed. Diane's PBJs weren't really worth "mmm"-ing about, but hungry people will "mmm" at anything, even stale bread. Mouth already half-full, Eve continued. "I'll pay you back for this, I promise. I don't want you to think I'm destitute or anything. I'm just always in a rush in the morning, and sometimes I forget to take my lunch money. Kevin usually spots me something and lets me pay the next day, but that little bitch has to come around and… ugh."

I twisted the cap off my iced tea bottle, opening it with a satisfying pop, and took a sip before answering. "Don't call Annie a bitch," I said.

Eve swallowed. "Why shouldn't I?" she asked between bites.

"Because it's an insult to the bitches of the world."

Eve snickered while chewing.

"I'm serious," I continued. "Do you know what a bitch is? Literally? A she-wolf. One of the noblest creatures there is. Loyal, strong-willed, affectionate, and takes no shit from anybody, including her mate or her disobedient children. A bitch is protector and provider, and every bit as good at it as her mate. A bitch lays her life on the line whenever necessary to protect her home and her family. Do not call Annie a bitch. She has not earned the honor. Annie is obviously a cunt."

Eve doubled over laughing with a mouthful of chewed PBJ. She covered her mouth, flailed her arms, and went red in the face trying not to spit it out. Coolly, I passed the iced tea to Eve. "Take a drink before you choke," I suggested.

Eve grabbed the bottle and took a big swig. She managed to hold her giggles long enough to swallow, then passed it back to me. "If you don't want me to choke, stop making me laugh while I'm eating, dumbass!" She slapped my shoulder playfully.

"I'm sorry, but it just comes so naturally," I said, coyly taking another sip before setting the bottle down between us. "So what're you drawing?"

She sighed. "It doesn't matter. It sucks. It always sucks if I draw it while I'm angry. And sometimes it seems I get a new reason to be angry every day around here."

"Well, like Kevin says, 'High school is high school...'"

"'-and high school is drama,'" Eve finished.

"You know Kevin?", I asked, surprised.

Eve shrugged. "Not really, but I started talking to him a while back, and he was friendly, so we make small talk during lunch and he occasionally lets me have something without paying."

"Oh," I said. "Uhh… you know he's gay, right?"

Eve turned to me with a suspicious look. "Yeah. Why, is it not cool to have gay friends these days?"

"No, no, no, of course not. It's just… it wouldn't be the first time some girl fell for his boyish charms and then ran away crying when she learned the truth."

Eve arched an eyebrow. "Oh, so you mean a woman can't talk to a man without an implicit offer to jump his bones?"

I took a good look at her to make sure she was joking. The small sparkle in her eyes told me she was. "Of course she can't," I said with maximum sarcasm. "Didn't you get the memo from the God Squad? If a woman starts talking to a man, it's a slippery slope to the point where she's lying spreadeagled on the bed begging for some per-marital hanky-panky. You should guard your pussy more righteously, young lady!"

Eve laughed. "Oh, Kevin is cute, but I can assure you he's getting no pussy from me." More seriously, she added: "But hey, how do _you_ know Kevin?"

"He's my brother."

She looked at me with widened eyes. "Really?"

"Well, not my real brother, but we grew up together, and we're close like brothers."

"Huh. Well, that explains a few things."

"Like what?"

"Like why the two of you are the only people in this school I can stand."

I chuckled. "It is an honor to be tolerated."

A moment passed in silence. I took another bite and chewed.

"So hang on," Eve said, "if Kevin hates high school so much, why did he come back here to work?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't really say he hated it, but anyway, he dropped out of college and they had an opening in the kitchen that didn't need a degree. I don't think he minds it that much when he's behind the counter, though. Drama's a lot different when you can enjoy it from safety instead of being in the thick of it. That's where reality TV comes from."

Eve nodded. "I can relate. It's why I eat lunch here."

"How so?" I asked, popping the last of my sandwich in my mouth.

Eve gestured towards the schoolyard. "Take a look. On a day like this, half the school eats lunch outside. And it's not just eating. They're also unloading their worries upon friends and enemies. And from the bleachers we have a panoramic, birds-eye view of it all."

Looking out over the schoolyard, I could see what she was talking about. Down at the track, an athletic girl was doing laps. Focused on her training, she was seemingly unaware of the guy eating lunch on the grass whose eyes kept wandering over to her. Off to one side, a small group of students were gathered together, playing a stupid hand-slapping game and laughing. Back by the school, a boy and girl were talking. His bearing said he was nervously trying to ask her out. Hers said she would be saying yes as soon as he could spit it out. Off by the fences, a tall kid ducked behind a tree, checked to see nobody was looking, and lit up what was either a cigarette or a joint. Two trees down, a pair of girls, likewise hidden from most people's view, were making out. Over at the baseball diamond, two bullies tormented a short kid by playing keep-away with his bag lunch, unaware of the gym teacher closing in from behind with an angry look. Over by the parking lot, someone drove off. A crying girl watched his car go.

"I see what you mean," I said. "There's, like, a hundred different storylines playing out out there."

Eve nodded. "Other people's drama in iMax."

"You following any plots in particular?", I asked.

"Yeah, that girl," she pointed. "Know her?"

I followed her finger to the bottom row of the bleachers. I did indeed recognize the girl she was pointing at: Roxy, the living cliche. She had a foot up on the bench seating and was leaning over to talk to a fat kid with glasses who had his back to us. From her position, he had a clear view down her blouse at the large and pendulous breasts inside. She licked her lollipop and gave him a smile that said she knew exactly what he could see.

Roxy looked and acted like a Barbie doll slathered in cheap perfume so as to better string along the G.I. Joes. She had been blessed by genetics with long blond hair, a svelte lower half, and outrageously giant breasts. Having learned back in junior high that those breasts had the power to command men's minds, she took full advantage. She used those gazongas to con horny and gullible schoolmates- and rumor had it, some teachers- out of all sorts of favors, from buying her jewelry to doing her homework. Her fashion sense pushed the bounds of the school's dress code; today she was wearing a pink tank-top that barely covered her (possibly padded) bra, gray hot pants that left little below the belt to the imagination, and short-heeled pumps that matched the color of her top. She was also wearing hoop earring and a bracelet- she had a huge collection of jewelry and accessories bought by various marks. Her trump card was that she almost always had a lollipop in her mouth, and when a little extra convincing was needed she would lick it suggestively. She could be quite attractive if she wasn't trying too hard. As it was, tawdry sexuality oozed out of her pores like pus from an infected wound.

"Yeah, I know her," I said. "Her name's Roxanne, but everyone calls her Roxy. She's in my Social Studies class. Sits in back, never raises her hand, chatters to her girlfriends when the teacher's not looking, copies her homework off of someone in exchange for letting them see her tits."

"Not anymore she isn't," Eve said. "I take gym with her and she's been complaining all week in the locker room about how she needs a new source."

"Really? We have a big assignment due this afternoon, maybe that explains why she's trawling the lonely hearts club."

As we watched, the kid in glasses stood up, dismissed Roxy with a wave of his hand, and walked off in the opposite direction. Roxy protested briefly, but eventually could only watch him go with a sad puppy face.

"Ouch!", Eve said gleefully. "Swing and a miss."

"Yeah, not surprising," I opined, turning to face Eve. "Roxy's been pulling this shit for so long the entire school's wise. She's used up the supply of bright but horny idiots. She might actually have to put out to get something."

"Or, you know, start studying."

"The horror!" I snickered. "I do almost feel bad for her, though. Almost. I mean, she's gone through everyone in the class and some who aren't. There's nobody left."

The look on Eve's face suddenly became serious. "Nobody?"

I thought about it. "Well, if she digs deep, she might be able to find one or two of the less-talented students. I mean, I know she never asked… me…"

I noticed Eve's gaze following something and turned. Sure enough, Roxy was tromping up the stairs towards us. She saw me looking and gave a wave and a big smile.

"Aw, shit," I said.

"Just don't talk to her," Eve suggested.

I opened a pack of cookies and took a sudden interest in them. Eve likewise focused on the remains of her sandwich. Neither of us looked up as Roxy slid into the seat next to us. "Heya, Aaron!," she said brightly.

We both ignored her. "Oh, Aaron..." she said in a singsong voice, and I knew instantly that the silent treatment wasn't going to work.

"No," I told her bluntly.

"No, what?"

"No, I won't let you copy my social studies homework, no I don't want to talk to you, no you can't sit here, no you can't offer me anything to change my mind. Take your pick."

Smiling, she sidled closer to me and leaned in to press tit-meat against my arm. It would have felt good, but not under these circumstances. "C'mon, Aaron, don't be a killjoy. I'm just wanted to see how you're doing."

I gave Roxy a doubtful look. "You're not getting my homework, Roxy."

"I'm not asking you to give it to me for nothing." She laid her hand on my thigh and rubbed it slowly. "Tell me, do you have a date for the senior prom yet? Because, as it so happens, I'm free..."

"Gee, I wonder why," Eve cut in. "Maybe it's because you're a miserable, conniving bitch?"

"Not a bitch," I corrected.

Eve smirked, just for a second. "Maybe it's because you're a miserable, conniving, can't-call-her-a-bitch-because-it's-an-insult-to-the-bitches-of-the-world?"

Roxy waved her lollipop at Eve like Harry Potter trying to knock someone across the room. "Zip it, bitty-titties. Aaron and I are talking."

Eve fumed.

"Actually," I corrected, "_Eve_ and I were talking, and you're interrupting."

"Oh, my god…," Roxy whined, "What could she possibly have to say that would be interesting? She never talks to anybody, unless it's to dunk on them. She's always sitting around with her head down and her hood up, ignoring everyone. She spends her lunchtime way up here, away from everyone, always doodling, never talking..."

Eve had, indeed, taken up her sketchbook, and was scribbling furiously in it, her hood pulled close around her face.

"Listen, Aaron," Roxy said, conspiratorily. "If I'm not your type- not like I can see how, even the gay guys want me- then think about this: do you know what's going to happen if word gets around that you and I are an item?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess: I go out with you, just once, and all the girls see me with the 'prettiest' girl in school and think, 'Ohmigod, I never realized how hot he really was!', and all of a sudden the girls are all falling over me trying to get what Roxy has and the boys are eager to rub shoulders hoping some of my mojo rubs off and I'm O-M-G-Popular! And everybody loves me and I'm the king of the high school, that about right? I've seen the movies you base your life around, Roxy, they're all piles of cliche garbage written by 40-year-olds in the 80's about the 50's and utterly divorced from reality. I don't care who's popular and who's not and who goes to the prom with who, or any other easily-broken promises you have to try and tempt we with. I'm not interested. Get lost!"

Now it was Roxy's turn to seethe. More than seethe, she looked like she was about to bite me clean in half. How dare I call her entire worldview into question?

But after a second of glaring, Roxy seemed to relax. Her mouth melted from a fiery, angry pout to an ophidian smile. "Aaron," she said bemusedly, "I'm beginning to think you don't want me around here."

"Most perceptive, Miss Roxanne," I said.

"Well then, how about this for a deal: you give me what I want, and I go away."

I raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"All I want from you is to copy your homework. Just give me that, and then I'll leave you and little miss flat, dark, and gloomy alone to whatever it is you want to do. If that's _really_ what you want, of course." She emphasized that last point by taking her lollipop out of her mouth and swirling her tongue around it.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. Considered a moment. Then I went into my backpack, took out my three-ring binder, and removed the three pages with my social studies homework. "Copy it quick, and remember to change enough that the teacher doesn't catch on." I held it out for her, then snatched it back as soon as she reached for it. "Not so fast. You don't get this for nothing."

Roxy smiled. "So you do want something after all?"

Beside me, I heard a brief stoppage in the scratching of Eve's pencil, then it resumed. Like a heart skipping a beat.

"Your lollipop," I said.

Roxy blinked in confusion. "What, this?", she said, holding it out.

I nodded slowly.

Roxy snickered. "Honey, if it's some candy you want, I've got a full jar in my locker. Come along, you can take four, five of them."

"Uh-uh," I said. "I don't want those lollipops. I want _that_ lollipop."

"Uh…," Roxy said, "You do realize I've been sucking on this for like, twenty minutes already, right?"

Again, I nodded slowly. With the creepiest smile I could manage.

"Umm…," Roxy said. "Okay, like… gross. Eww."

I shrugged. "Hey, babe, whatever you want." I started to put my homework away.

"Wait!", Roxy said. I looked at her expectantly. "I… oh, alright, take it. Like I said, I have plenty."

I took the lollipop, popped it in my mouth, and handed over my homework. As Roxy took out her binder and started to copy, I turned to Eve. She was still scribbling furiously, and as I watched she crossed something out with vigor and flipped the page to start fresh. I tapped her shoulder gently. She turned a blazing stink-eye on me. I pointed two fingers at my eyes. _Watch this._

For a few minutes, Roxy copied notes, Eve drew, and I sucked on a lollipop. It was rather bland- probably one of the sugar-free things you got from the dentist's office. I suppose Roxy used them for the look more than anything else. I felt around the underside of my seat, and as certain as the sunrise, I found a discarded wad of chewing gun, still soft and sticky. I pulled it out. It was green. I rolled it into a ball, which I speared onto the end of the lollipop stick like an olive, before squeezing it tightly to make sure it stayed in place.

This wasn't Roxy's first rodeo- she was done swiftly, and closed her binder before handing my homework back. "Done and done! Thanks, Aaron! I still need someone to provide me homework on the regular, so if you want to reconsider… you know where to find me." She gathered her things, blew a kiss, and turned to walk away.

"Not so fast," I called out.

"Hmm?", Roxy turned around. I took the lollipop out of my mouth and handed it back to her.

"I think I'm done with this. Take it back."

Roxy laughed. "Keep it. A little bonus."

"That wasn't a request," I said sternly. Roxy's smile dropped as I held the lollipop out to her. "Take it. I want you sucking on it from now until the end of social studies."

Roxy looked at me with revulsion. "Uh, no. Perv."

"Keep in mind, Roxy, I can still have a change of heart about this arrangement and report my misdeeds to the teacher."

Roxy stammered. "Y-you wouldn't! You'd get in as much trouble as me!"

"Oh, I don't think so. It'd be my first offense, but I'd wager this isn't the first time you'd be getting caught copying off someone. You have way more than me to lose here." The look on her face told me I was dead on. I held it out again, in a mockery of Roxy's own mannerisms. "This little thing. In your mouth. Until the end of seventh period. Try to get cute and switch it out for another…," I tapped the wad of gum on the end, "-and I'll know."

"This is blackmail!"

"Yep."

Roxy glared bullets at me. I just smiled back.

"Fine," she said, snatching it out of my hand. "Cocksucker," she muttered as she walked away.

I was tempted to retort "Takes one to know one," but no need to degrade into name-calling. Roxy stuck the lollipop in her mouth, trying not to heave as she did so. Then she walked away, holding her binder protectively to her oversize chest.

"And that," I said. "Should serve Roxy as a lesson in interrupting people during their lunch break."

Beside me, Eve seemed to be shaking.

"Something amuse you?" I asked.

Eve started laughing out loud. "Oh my god, it's like you raped her mouth with that lollipop!"

"What?!", I said. "No! No, absolutely… rape?! Why would you think that?" A pause. "Well… I suppose I might have… sexually harassed her tonsils a bit…"

Eve continued laughing. I munched on a cookie as she sputtered to a stop. Remembering, I took the second packet of cookies out on my bag and handed it to her. She took it without a word and ripped it open. "God, Aaron… I just wish I had the courage to do something like that. Something to get back at all these assholes always pushing me around."

"Yeah, well Roxy deserved it. I don't know how anybody stands her, she's so fake."

Eve raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, fake?"

"You know…," I gestured vaguely, "Fake. Phony. Manipulative. Pretending to be something she's not."

"Well... what is she? For real, I mean?"

"Hell, I don't know. Nobody knows. That's the thing, she always shows people what she wants them to see. Usually tits. And then they fall at her feet." Silence for a minute. Eve didn't seem to have much to say. "I mean," I continued, "I don't blame her for having big tits. It's not like she had a choice any more than I had a choice to be a skinny dude with oily hair. That's just the body I got. But we shouldn't let ourselves be defined by that shit. We have our own lives. We have the freedom to be what we want to be. We should have the courage to exercise it too."

"Well… who's to say a big-titted bimbo isn't what she wants to be?"

"Ah, I dunno. Maybe it is. Or maybe she just does it because it's what everybody expects. Because she wants to fit into the box they have set out for her for the sake of... acceptance or something. That's what I think gets me about her. If she was truly being what she wanted to be, she wouldn't be trying so hard to be one of the beautiful people. She wouldn't care. That's 'fake'. 'Fake' is when you care too much about what other people think of you, and not enough about being the 'you' that… I dunno, feels right to _you_." I leaned back, lifted my eyes to heaven, and heaved a heavy sigh. "Ah, I'm sorry. I'm being really rambly and really judgey here."

Eve waved her hand. "No, no, it's okay. I actually agree with a lot of what you're saying. I just have to wonder, if it ever came down to it, would you…?"

She trailed off, and after a minute I realized she wasn't going to continue. I looked over at her. "What?" I asked, quizzically.

Eve's eyes met mine briefly, and for a second something- some indefinable thing maybe like a hailing frequency on _Star Trek_\- seemed to reach across the space between us. But she turned away and the transmission dispersed before reaching me. "Forget it," she said. "Anyway, Roxy's going to get no sympathy from me. She's an ass in gym too."

"Really?"

Eve groaned. "Oh my god, she is _always_ trying to start something with me! She knows how insecure I am about my chest, and she never misses a chance to rub it in! It drives me straight up the fucking wall!"

"Does she? Well, maybe she's trying to deflect attention?"

"From what?"

"From the fact that you're so much prettier than her."

I smiled. Eve rolled her eyes, also smiling. "Okay, Romeo, that's enough of your B.S."

Before I could say anything to that, the bell rung. Eve crumpled up her now-empty packet of cookies and we both got to our feet.

"Well, back to the grind," I said.

"S.S.D.D.. Thanks for lunch, Aaron."

"No problem." I hefted my backpack on my shoulder and started back to school.

"Say, Aaron…?" Eve asked.

I turned back to her. "Yeah?"

"Out of curiosity, what've you got planned for the weekend?"

I hadn't really thought about it. "Probably stay home and catch up on schoolwork. I've been making steady progress, but there's just so much I missed."

Eve brushed her hair out of her face, suddenly looking very awkward. "Can I, uh… can I get your number?"

The request caught me off-guard. "Uh, sure. Got your phone?"

I gave her my number and she punched it in. A moment later, I received a text on my own phone.

"There, now you've got mine too. I get really bored on the weekends so, if you have time… give me a call. We can hang out at my place."

"Sounds good," I said. "I'll call if I can. Have a nice day."

"You too."

"Don't let the not-bitches get to you."

She gave me a thumbs-up.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A DESTINATION A LITTLE UP THE ROAD

Main street runs through the center of town, with the park on one side and a long series of storefronts- most of them shuttered- on the other. Walk down this road to the northwest corner of the park. Turn right, and walk one block north, into the poorer section of town. There on the first corner, you'll find a red brick building with a sign hanging on the second story: Sugar Tats. It was not such a bad name for a Tattoo parlor. A little tawdry, perhaps, but it was distinctive enough that you remembered it. Admittedly, the drawing of a naked woman with sugar cubes covering her nipples on the front window might have been a bit much.

If you kept going three blocks further, you'd reach the highway. Alongside the highway was a biker bar and – across the street – a cluster of auto repair shops. I was barely familiar with this area; I came this way only rarely, when Mom needed to visit the mechanic and I had to tag along for whatever reason. I know the biker bar was a constant source of work for the local police department- and presumably Sugar Tats, too, judging by the two motorcycles parked outside. Other than the bar, the area was not dangerous- not even after dark- but it had clearly seen better days. The streets were clean, but the residential houses were run-down and grimy, with small, shabby lawns. Sugar Tats itself had once been a family home with an attached garage. At some point back before I was born, someone had bought it, dug up the lawn, walk, and driveway, put down blacktop to make an ad-hoc parking lot, and converted the bottom floor into a business. I vaguely recalled it having been a barbershop at some point. I didn't know when it had changed to its current form.

I was here because, after spending half of Saturday on catch-up work, I was burned out and needed to get out of the house. So I gave Eve a call and asked if that offer to hang out was still open. It was. I tromped down the stairs, and told Mom I was going out to see a friend. She barely acknowledged me, engrossed in some reality show that was probably an excuse to sit awake staring at nothing without looking weird. I would have told Diane instead, but she had been called in to work to deal with a major crisis. Hopefully Mom would remember to tell her when she got home.

Mom wasn't getting better, I thought as I closed the front door behind me. All the more reason I had to get away for awhile.

Sugar Tats' second floor was apartment space, where Eve and her sister lived. Eve had told me to text when I got there and she'd let me up. But after three texts with no response and one call that went straight to voicemail, I realized I'd have to ask for her downstairs.

A bell rang as I pushed the glass door open. The inside of the shop was like the outside- a little rough around the edges, but respectable. A glass sales counter with a register sat in the back corner, and three tattoo chairs were positioned in a line across the far wall. The walls were covered with framed pieces of tattoo art, as well as some goth-style decorations. The place was crowded- two bikers, one with a thick beard and one balding- were getting ink done. In the first chair, the bearded biker was getting a fiery skull graphic on his arm. The tattooist was a redheaded woman with blue eyes and a tank-top that left her extensive body art on display. She seemed vaguely familiar, although I was sure I had never seen her before.

The balding biker was in the second chair, being attended to by a woman in goth makeup with a white streak in her shoulder-length black hair. She was dressed in a shoulderless top, shorts, and long boots with heels, which exposed some of her own ink. It also made it obvious that she had quite the figure, bulging pleasingly both in the seat and chest, and my gaze lingered on her a second longer than it should have.

Against the front window, a padded bench- presumably for waiting customers- was occupied by a man in a black tank top and pants with a brown ponytail and goatee. He had a tribal tattoo running the whole length of his left arm.

Five people in the room, not counting the skinny kid with virgin skin awkwardly shifting from foot to foot in the doorway. The five chatted amiably over the buzz of the tattoo needles.

"No, no, I'm telling you, Freddy is the scariest! Bar none! I mean, he kills you in your dreams, how can you defend against that?", the ponytailed guy said.

"Eh…," the goth girl replied, "first movie, yeah, he was scary. But after four or five movies, they just turned him into a joke."

"Well, okay, sure, but that's the 1990's. Dark age of horror film," ponytail retorted. "I mean, it's like people suddenly got afraid of getting scared. All the stuff got tame. _Army of Darkness_? Great film, but not scary in the least."

I tried to cut in. "Uhh, excuse me..."

The goth girl looked up with a bright smile. "Hi there, welcome to Sugar Tats! I'll be with you in a sec, I'm just finishing up here." She returned her attention to the cross she was inking on the hand of her customer, sparing only enough attention to continue the conversation. "Come on, there had to be something? Maybe that proto-_Saw_ thing we saw? You remember, about the people trapped in a giant cube?"

"Eh, decent gore, but it's less horror than dark sci-fi. That's the thing. After 1990, there's no real _traditional_ horror, it's all horror-comedies and sci-fi,"

"Maybe _Leprechaun_?", the balding biker suggested.

Ponytail scoffed. "Please. That series was a joke even before they shot him into space, and _everything_ is lame in space."

"Hey, _Alien_ was scary as hell!", balding opined.

"Yeah, but that's the problem," said goth. "Everything scary IN SPACE just ripped off _Alien_."

"Well, I don't know," balding said. "what about that… what was it, _Hellraiser_ in space?"

"What, you mean the forth one?", ponytail said. "Eh… not as bad as its rep, but…,"

"No, no, I mean the one that was kinda _Hellraiser_, but not. It had… what's his name…? Uh, the guy who was Morpheus in _The Matrix_..."

"_Event Horizon_?" goth offered.

"Yeah, that's the one," balding said.

"Oh, yeah that is a good one!", ponytail said. "Alright, that's _two_ good horror films set in space, I guess."

"What about the _Alien_ sequels? Do they count?", asked bearded.

"Nah, the second one's more of a war movie," ponytail said.

"And the others? What are they?", said bearded.

"Shit," goth opined, before shutting off her tattoo gun. "Okay, all done," she told balding.

Balding inspected goth's work and nodded in approval. The two of them went to the counter to settle the bill. I listened without much interest while bearded and ponytail continued to discuss movies, arguing over whether _2001_ counted as horror. The redhead more or less ignored them. She was intensely focused on her work, and for good reason. The design she was doing was not only intricate and detailed, but vibrant as well. She was obviously a master.

After a moment, the cash register rung, and balding headed for the door, promising to meet up with bearded at the bar when he was done. Before leaving, balding made an inscrutable gesture to ponytail, who nodded and followed him out. The goth girl waved me over and I went to the counter. "So again, welcome to Sugar Tats!," she said. "We ink anything, anywhere. Designs in the book," she gestured to a stuffed three-ring binder on the table, "or you can request a custom job, if you have the money. I'm going to have to see ID before we start, and if it's your first time…,"

"Uh, actually," I cut in. "I'm not here for a tattoo. I'm looking for Eve."

The buzz of a tattoo needle suddenly cut off. I turned and saw that for the first time since I'd come in, the redhead was looking up from her work. "What do you want with Eve?", she asked suspiciously. I looked her over, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar. Red hair, blue eyes, multiple tattoos on her body… I almost smacked myself for not realizing sooner. "Oh, you must be Grace," I said. "I'm Aaron, I'm a friend of Eve's from school."

Grace leaned back in her chair, apparently surprised. "Odette, go get her," she said to the goth. To her customer, she asked, "could you give me a minute?" He nodded in reply. As the goth girl- Odette- walked out the front door, Grace laid her tattoo gun aside and walked over to me.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Aaron, but why are you here?"

I hadn't been expecting an interrogation. "Uhh… well, Eve said she gets bored on the weekends, and I was kinda bored today too, so she said I could come by and hang out if I wanted. Is, uh… is there a problem?"

Grace shook her head, as if suddenly realizing how weird her reaction was. "Oh, no, no! Forgive my suspicion, it's just unexpected. Eve doesn't talk much about school. I was actually worried that she wasn't making friends."

I struggled not to look off-guard. High-schoolers hide lots of things from their parents and guardians, and tend not to be happy when someone else spills the beans. "Well, it's true she's kind of a loner, but she's really fun once you get to know her. Nice to talk to. Really great artist."

"So she has friends? A peer group?"

"A couple friends, yeah." Between me and Kevin, it was true enough.

"Ah, that's a relief. What about her teachers, does she get along with them?"

"Haven't heard of any real issues. She's always at the top of French class."

"Hmm..." Grace said. She thought for a moment, then broached the subject gently. "What about… has she ever been in trouble over anything? Is she being bullied?"

Trouble? Occasionally, but not more than average. Bullied? Too often. Tyrone, Annie, possibly Roxy, random assholes who liked provoking her just because. But if Eve didn't tell Grace, she probably had a good reason. "Not that I know of," I said. "Like I said, she's kind of a loner."

Grace nodded. "Well, that's good to hear." Her voice became lower and more serious. "Listen, I… don't know what Eve has told you, but she's been through some serious stuff recently. I'm glad she has people her own age to lean on. Just… well… be gentle with her. I know she puts up a strong front, but..."

Grace was thankfully interrupted by the door swinging open before things could get too awkward. Eve walked in and spied me instantly. "Aaron, hi! Why didn't you text?"

"I did. You didn't answer."

Eve looked at me confusedly. "No, you didn't. I…,"

As if on cue, Eve's phone bleeped. She pulled it from her pocket. By the time she looked at it, it had bleeped two more times. She frowned. "Correction, it looks like I did get th..." The phone bleeped three times more. Eve frowned harder. "Twice, in fact."

Odette had followed her inside. "PCS: Pretty Crappy Service, amirite? So hey, Evie! I have to say I'm impressed. Finally bringing someone home, and he's a real cutie, too."

Eve pulled her hood close and grimaced. "It's not like that. Aaron's just here to hang out."

"Oh, sure, sure. Hanging out in your room, presumably alone, after sneaking him upstairs so we wouldn't know about it?"

"It wasn't like that," Eve retorted, "I just didn't want to interrupt you in the middle of work."

Odette laughed "A likely story. I'm not blind, Eve honey, and neither is your big sister. We saw how his face lit up when you walked in."

Grace glared at Odette. "Odie, don't embarrass my sister."

Odette scoffed. "Well, somebody has to, and you've been seriously derelict in your 'annoying big sis' duties." She turned to me. "Come on, kid, fess up..." she gestured at Eve vaguely. "You totally want to hit this, don't you?"

"Uhhhhhh…" I said, because what else can you say to a question like that?

Even with her hood up, I could tell Eve was blushing beet red. "Aaron is just a friend."

"Look at him, girl," Odette teased, "he's blushing just as red as you! You know he wants it!"

I did actually feel my cheeks burning a bit.

"Odie…!" Grace tried to cut in.

"Oh my God!" Eve exclaimed in a sudden, angry outburst. "Odette, do you _ever_ stop! Aaron does _not_ like me like that! We are just _friends_! Just because _you_ have to jump on everything that moves doesn't mean the rest of us can't behave like normal people!"

Odette blinked. "Serious?"

"Yes, serious," Eve answered.

Odette broke into a large smile. "Can _I_ have him, then?"

"ODETTE!", Grace snapped like the crack of a bullwhip. "Will you zip it for a minute! You're making my sister uncomfortable, and you're keeping _me_ away from a paying customer!"

Odette frowned. "God, Grace, you're such a killjoy these days." Nevertheless, she stepped back and quieted down.

"I'm sorry about her, Eve," Grace said. "Please, introduce us."

Eve sighed. "Grace, Odette, random guy I don't know sitting in a tattoo chair, this is Aaron, a _friend_ from school with whom I plan to hang out in my room having boring, G-rated fun. Aaron, this is Grace, my big sister and legal guardian, and Odette, her BFF because reasons."

"Uh, hi," I said, giving a weak wave. "Nice to meet you both."

"Can we _go_ now?", Eve asked, whining a bit.

"Sure," Grace said. "Nice to meet you, Aaron. Oh! And Eve, I've got a customer coming in soon for some heavy back work, so you're on your own for dinner. Take some money out of my purse and get Chinese, I'll eat later."

"Sure, thanks. C'mon, Aaron."

I followed Eve to the door.

"And remember to close the curtains before things get too sexy!", Odette called. Eve flipped her off over her shoulder.

As we ducked through the door, I heard Odette say something to Grace too soft for me to hear- I think I caught the words "hot for each other"- followed by the distinctive thud and oof of someone being elbowed in the ribs.

"Sorry about Odette," Eve said once we were outside. "I don't know what's wrong with her, she's got sex on the brain 24/7."

"'Sokay," I said. "Everybody has embarrassing family friends."

"Ugh, she's more than embarassing, she's a goddamn molester." Taking a key from her pocket, she unlocked the garage door. The lock turned with a creaking groan. "She's always trying to get into bed with my sister, even though... Hey, Tucker!" This last was said to the ponytailed guy from earlier. He had just come into sight from some sort of alley or side yard around the corner of the building. The balding biker walked ahead of him, waving goodbye before heading to his motorcycle to leave.

"Take care, man," the ponytailed man said. Then, turning to Eve, he said, "what's up?"

"Chillin'. Aaron, this is Tucker. He's uhh… the shop's…" she gestured helplessly, trying to come up with the word.

"I bring in customers," Tucker said, smiling ear to ear.

"Oh," I said, not getting it. "Well, uh, nice to meet you."

"Look, uh, Tucker..." Eve said, lowering her voice, "Could I get some…?"

Tucker threw up his hands and shook his head. "Noooooo. No, no, no. You know what your sister told me."

"Oh, come on…," Eve whined. "I've got a friend here, I've got to show some hospitality, right?"

"Your problem, not mine," Tucker said. "Grace said no more freebies, and I can't afford to piss her off now that they're patrolling the park."

"Grace is a hypocrite, and you know it!"

Tucker shrugged. "Maybe, but she's sticking her neck out for me. So when she says no freebies for little sis, I pay heed."

"C'mon, just one little…?"

Tucker sighed. "Max one per week at standard price, and I know you don't have it."

Eve made a pouty face. "Fine."

"But hey," Tucker said, "if boyfriend here wants to cover you, that might be another story..."

"Uh… for what?", I asked.

"He's just… oh, forget it," Eve said. "Thanks for nothing, Tucker."

Tucker shrugged. "Nothing is free, and you get nothing for nothing," he said philosophically, and ambled back in to the shop. "Later, Evie."

"What was that about? Cover you for what?", I asked Eve.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'll tell you inside."

She led me into the garage. Suburban garages were built to store cars and repurposed to store junk when the basement and attic were full, but this one was surprisingly clean. The center was bare. Some paint cans rested against one wall, and a motorcycle against the opposite. On the back wall there was a small window, looking out into what was presumably a backyard, and a ratty-looking couch. Some miscellaneous boxes sat on shelves over the couch, along with a large stereo system that you worried would bring the shelf down atop the couch. In the corner a wide staircase led up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. In another corner I noticed a bong.

Eve reached up to grab at a cord attached to the garage door- she was short and needed a small hop to reach it- and pulled the door closed. A twist of a lever locked the door. "I don't know how much you got out of that, but basically… Tucker sells marijuana."

"He's a drug dealer?"

"Just marijuana. He went to the same college as Grace and Odette. Tucker grew some plants in his dorm room so he could get invited to the good parties. He met Grace and Odette at one and the three of them hit it off- I think he probably fucked one of them, but they all deny it- and after they all left college, they kept in touch. He's got a garden somewhere in town and Grace lets him hang out around here and meet customers, so long as all the actual buying and selling happens elsewhere."

I frowned. "Isn't that kind of a big risk?"

Eve shrugged. "Not as much as you might think. If he does get busted, Grace can just play dumb. Besides, it's marijuana. Not like crack or meth or anything that gets people shot. In ten years you'll be able to buy it at a Walgreens."

I had to take her word for that. I didn't know anything about drugs; I'd always been taught to stay away, and I did.

"Anyway!" Eve clapped her hands. "Welcome to Chateau le Grace, let me give you the grand tour. This is the garage, our de facto foyer and living room when we have guests over. The stereo is technically Odette's, I think, but we all use it when we want to."

"Odette is a roommate, I take it?", I asked.

"She might as well be. She's got her own place, but she only goes there to sleep. And if it's a late night, she'll often just crash on the couch over there. The bike is Grace's," she added. "don't touch it, she's a little possessive."

I looked the motorcycle over. "Nice," I said, knowing nothing about motorcycles.

Eve snickered. "Well, it used to be, back when she bought it. Now it's a little broken down. After flunking out of college, Grace decided she wanted to be a biker chick, so she bought that with what was left of her college fund and spent a whole year riding from one side of the country to the next and back again. Sent me postcards from everywhere."

"Sounds pretty awesome," I said.

"It _was_ awesome!", Eve said enthusiastically. "There's eight years between us, so she was always off running around and partying and having fun while I was stuck at home alone being ordered around by our parents. I looked up to her so much, she was so cool! Sometimes, when I was alone in the house, I would..." she stopped short.

"You would what?", I asked.

Eve pulled her hood close and waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing."

"No, what?"

"Nothing, nothing… It's stupid."

"Come on, I'm curious."

Eve shifted from one foot to another. "Promise not to laugh?"

"I promise."

"Well... it's kind of embarrassing, but… sometimes, when Mom and Dad were out and I was left all alone, I would go up to the attic, try on Grace's old clothes and pretend I was her."

I laughed.

"It's not funny!", Eve whined. She smacked me on the shoulder, but not hard. "It's embarrassing!"

Eve swung again. I threw up my arms defensively and sputtered to a stop. "Sorry, sorry! I couldn't stop myself! But hey, y'know, it's nothing wrong. I mean, I used to dress in my Dad's clothes when I was five and wanted to pretend I was grown up. My aunt said she stole Mom's clothes all the time in high school, it's just something ordinary sisters do."

Eve smiled and snickered a bit. "Ordinary sisters. Yeah. Anyway, Grace's road trip ended when she went broke. She came back home and… well, she was still cool, but there was a lot of drama. Our parents thought she'd squandered her education. She had to beg and plead to get them to fund tattoo school. And… well… somewhere between then and now she stopped being cool. Now she's just like our Mom. Busy all the time, and always yelling at me to not do this or that, when I know full well she did most of that stuff herself..." she trailed off, head hanging to the floor.

"Maybe she doesn't think it was worth it," I offered.

Eve looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean… from the sound of it, she had to struggle a lot to get where she is today. Maybe she doesn't want you to repeat her mistakes. My Dad used to say 'Saturday night isn't worth Sunday morning.'"

Eve started to say something, then decided better. "Yeah, well, whatever. I still miss the cool Grace. Come on, I'll show you the rest of the place." She started for the steps, and I followed at her invitation.

"Isn't it kind of weird to go through the garage to the second floor?", I asked.

"Well, there is an interior stairway, but it's old and rotten through. Apparently, Odette nearly fell through the steps once, and since then Grace has boarded up the top landing and used the bottom for a storage room." She paused to push the trapdoor open. "I thought it was weird at first, but now I like it. Kinda like living in a castle with secret passages and stuff."

"Why not get the stairs fixed?", I asked.

"Grace says it's too much trouble, it's an inconvenience, contractors would close the business down for who knows how long, yadda, yadda, yadda, but I think the truth is that she can't afford it."

"Money problems?", I asked, concerned.

"Not really," Eve said. I mounted the final step and stepped out onto the garage roof. She closed the trapdoor after me before continuing. "Grace only gets paid when she has customers, so there's occasionally a month where we come up short, and even on the better months we don't have a lot of luxuries. But we get by. Anyway, enough about Grace. I'm supposed to be showing you around."

And so she did. The roof of the garage was done up like a deck. A railing encircled the edge, a table and chairs sat off to one corner, and a few flowerpots were scattered about. A grill would not have been out of place. Against the wall a door opened in to the main room inside. It was small and a little rough, with paint flaking off the walls and creaking floorboards, but the space was used efficiently and creatively. It was roughly divided into four sub-rooms: to the right of the entrance a space was taken up by a basic but functional kitchen setup and a refrigerator. To the left a small table with two chairs served as a dining room. Next to it was a den area with a couch, bookcase, and a TV and DVD player on a stand. Finally, in the far corner, a trio of folding screens blocked off a small nook with a mattress on the floor and some shelves and a clothing rack behind it. A marvel of modern antimaterialist architecture: Everything you need, nothing you don't, all in one room. That mattress nook, according to Eve, was where Grace slept. Eve had a room of her own, beyond a closed brown door between kitchen and the bed-nook. I'd been in a girl's bedroom only once before that I remembered, so I really wasn't sure what to expect. Lots of pink, I suppose.

What I found had very little pink. Instead, there were two walls painted blue-gray, and two bare brick. None of them were undecorated. On the left wall, next to a door beyond which I could see a bathroom, hung a few sketches drawn in Eve's own hand. They were secured to the wall with strips of masking tape, as were the music posters on the wall next to the entrance. The left wall was dominated by a large black hanging blanket depicting- of all things- an internet meme involving rainbows. The far wall had a window that looked out over the backyard and a curtain rod from which hung blue curtains. Next to the window "Eve's Domain" had been painted on the wall in blue, graffiti-style letters. Furnishings were sparse. A dresser was against the far wall, next to a desk with a dusty, uncomfortable-looking chair. Schoolbooks were piled on the desk, beside an old laptop that was probably still good for homework and net surfing. A few anime figures sat on the dresser. In the opposite corner, next to the door, a pair of stacked mattresses with sheets and pillows served as a bed. Next to the foot of the bed was a small table with a TV on top, a game console to the side, and a small collection of games beneath it. Here and there a few objects were scattered on the floor for lack of shelf space elsewhere, including a pile of old sketchbooks next to the bed. Track lighting hung from the ceiling above the door. Tied to the lights on one end and the curtain rod over the window on another was a clothesline, from which hung several images from Eve's sketchbook on clothespins.

"Welcome to my abode," Eve said as we entered. Upon crossing the threshold, Eve took her hood down with a smoothness that could only have been muscle memory. Her ocean-blue hair hung long and straight, fading to blond tips just around her shoulders. It occurred to me that it was very rare to see her with her hair out. She practically lived in that hoodie, I imagine she changed out of it for gym, but I'd never seen it for myself- we had different periods. I wondered why the hood was such a constant. It seemed an awful waste for such a pretty girl to always be hiding herself away.

She must have noticed me staring, because she looked at me and said "What?"

"Did I tell you how much I like your hair?", I asked.

She snickered and brushed a stray lock out of her face. "Yes, in fact, you did."

"Shall I say it again?"

She crossed her arms with a wry a smile. "Aaron, I just told everybody we were just friends. You're not trying to make a liar out of me, are you?"

_Would that be so bad?_, I wondered. "So hey, this is a nice room!" I said, still taking it all in. "I'm surprised Grace didn't keep it for herself."

"Well, she said she wanted me to have a room of my own. Someplace I could have privacy. It's only for a while, anyway. As soon as I'm off to college, she'll be able to take it back." She sat down on the bed, which gave a small, merry bounce under her weight.

I took a seat on the floor next to the bed. "Where're you headed for college?", I asked.

"San Francisco. Art School. You?"

"State university." I told her the campus.

"Studying what?"

I shrugged, kind of helplessly. "Figure it out when I get there, I guess. Haven't had much time lately to think about the future. Besides, we're eighteen, who knows if we'll even be the same people in five years?"

Eve shrugged. "I suppose. But I know I'm going to be an artist. It's in my blood."

"Because of Grace?"

"More than just that. Our Mom ran a high-end bakery. She designed and made custom cakes for clients to mark special occasions. Have you ever seen a really extravagant dessert? They're sculptures of chocolate and fondant. And her grandfather was an architect who painted landscapes in his spare time. I think Grace has one of his paintings, still, but she can't find a place to hang it. And I draw."

"You also seem to have a knack for interior design," I said, gesturing around the room. "This is _totally_ you."

Eve laughed and looked briefly away. "I dunno. I look around this room and it seems it always looks messy."

"An artist's room should be a little messy," I opined. "A little unrestrained spontaneity. It's better then my room, I'll tell you that. Most of my stuff is still in boxes for the move. Doesn't seem to be much point when I'll be out of here in a few months." A pause. Eve didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so I continued. "So, hey, what do you do around here for G-rated fun?"

Eve shrugged. "Draw, mostly. Or I read, study, play games, listen to music."

"What kind of music?"

She gestured at the wall over the bed, where band posters were hanging. I took a closer look and noticed they were all 90's bands; post-grunge and early alt-rock. I nodded approvingly. "Old school."

"Yeah, we're all rock fans in this house," Eve said. "Grace listens to punk and a bit of classic rock; Odette is totally into metal. Me, I'm the grunge girl. I like my music soft and moody. You?"

"Mostly alt-rock." I jigged a thumb at her posters. "The 90's stuff is good, but I like the more recent stuff. Stuff with a bit more energy and fun."

Eve frowned. "Eh, I dunno; After the turn of the millennium, it just all went downhill. Like, it's all just soulless guitar riffs, or emo crap. Nobody knows how to find the balance anymore."

I shrugged. "Well, you're not wrong in that there's plenty of crap, but there always has been. We remember the Nirvanas, but we forget about the Nicklebacks, the Good Charlottes… The Limp Bizkits." I said this last with a smile, knowing full well what any self-respecting rock fan's reaction would be.

Eve did not disappoint me. "Ugh!," She said, jamming her hands into her face. "Do _not_ remind me of Limp Bizkit! Grace shredded their t-shirt ages ago and still hasn't recovered from the humiliation!"

I laughed. "But anyway, there is still good stuff, if you can find it."

"Like?"

"Well...", I thought for a minute. "Actually, hang on…", I took out my phone, set the volume to max and the app to shuffle, and put on The White Stripes.

"Oh, yeah! That _is_ some good music!" Eve said, and was soon singing along with The Hardest Button to Button.

We sat there, listening to my phone, for quite some time, while talking about the state of rock music. Were a music journalist a fly on the wall, he would likely have been stinging both of us in a blind fury, but teenagers trying to sound knowledgeable about music they only sorta understand is a long and venerated tradition. My playlist bounced back and forth from big acts to some lesser-known bands and one-hit wonders. Most of it was stuff that you could nod along to- not good for headbanging, not too emo, not too depressing- I was ever in search of the musical middle ground which kept you calm but made you glad to be alive. It was good to share these things with Eve. I watched her sway slowly in her seat and sing along when she knew the words. Until the Black Eyed Peas came on and I lunged to hit stop.

Eve gave me a look that said there was no chance she didn't recognize the song.

"Uh, yeah," I said sheepishly. "Relic of my misspent youth. I should probably cull a few tracks from this list."

Eve gave me the look of a schoolteacher who was Very Disappointed In You, and held that look while she took out her own phone and played a few very distinctive bars of Britney Spears. Then she broke into a smile. "Everybody is allowed one guilty pleasure on their playlist."

We both laughed, then decided it was Eve's turn. Her selection was as she said; predominantly 90's, cool and mellow, a little melancholy, with the occasional sunnier track. It suited her, I thought. After a time, the playlist ended up with Johnny Cash's cover of "Hurt". When the first notes came on, Eve went immediately silent in mid-sentence, and shushed me when I tried to ask what she had been saying, because "respect must be paid." When the song was over, Eve tapped her phone and all music stopped. No other song could follow it adequately. Besides, it had been more than an hour- closer to two, even- and sharing playlists was starting to wear a little thin.

"So, what else is there to do around here?", I asked.

Eve thought for a minute. "Well, we could put on a DVD or something in the other room, if you want."

I shrugged. Honestly, it sounded kind of lame, but I didn't want to go home yet. "I suppose. What you got?"

"Well, that's kind of the problem," Eve said. "I've seen everything in our collection, and there's nothing I feel like rewatching."

"Well… how about we go out and rent something, then?", I suggested.

Eve laughed. "Come on, Aaron, what is this, 1980? Video stores are extinct."

"True…," I said knowingly. "But I know a place you can still rent for a night..."

Eve gave me a curious look.

Before Netflix, before Blockbuster, before even the mom & pop video store that kept pornos in the back room, the OG of video rental was the local public library. Public funding and a mandate to preserve rather then profit meant it outlived all the rest. But while you can't beat the prices or the service, there was one big problem: the selection was not always the best. After half an hour of browsing the stainless steel shelves, we were no closer to finding anything we wanted to watch. Everything that one of us didn't reject out of hand, the other had seen. Nevertheless, we continued.

"_Nightmare On Elm Street_?", I suggested.

"Seen it," Eve said.

"How about the second one? Hardly anyone talks about that."

She scoffed. "There's a reason for that. Besides, I'm not really in the mood for horror."

"Maybe something funny, then? I saw _Ace Ventura_ back there."

"Ugh, no. That film has _not_ stood the test of time. Don't they have any anime?"

"They do, but they shelve everything by title, so it's all mixed in. Hey, here's one: _Metropolis._"

Eve considered. "That's a good one, but a sad ending. I'm not in the mood."

"Well, what are you in the mood for?"

"Something... frivolous, I guess. Fun and not too deep." She snapped her fingers. "Do they have _Lucky Star_?"

I checked. "No luck."

Eve clicked her tongue in annoyance and we both went back to browsing.

"You're big into anime, aren't you?", I asked, looking to make some conversation.

"Gee, what gave it away?", Eve replied sardonically.

"Well, let's see: the cat-ears, the blue hair, the drawings of ninjas, the figurines hanging out on your dresser… it's not exactly a secret."

Eve chuckled. "Well, it's fun. I used to watch Sailor Moon when I was a kid. Graduated to sneaking downstairs late nights to watch adult swim in junior high."

"I used to borrow anime VHSes from here when I was a kid, until Mom shut me down."

"Why'd she do that?"

"I tried to take out _La Blue Girl_ when I was ten."

Eve turned to me with wide eyes. "And the librarians let you?!"

I snickered. "Well, no. See, Mom took classes here over the summer- some reading club or something- and I would tag along and hang out in the kids' section because she didn't like leaving me home alone. Taking out a movie was my compensation for behaving myself. So one day I see _La Blue Girl _sitting on the shelf, and I've heard of it from some friend that wasn't as supervised as me, so I think 'Holy shit!' And of course I've gotta take it out now, so I take it, and I go with Mom to the check-out desk. I'm so stupid, I think I can hold it under my arm and hide the cover and Mom won't know what's up, but of course the check-out clerk sees, and he does a double-take and he's like, 'Uhhhh… Ma'am, are you sure...' And then he shows it to Mom and she goes red in the face like her head's about to explode!"

Eve was laughing. I started laughing too.

"So…," I continued, "No more anime for me. Mom wouldn't even let me watch Toonami after that. The librarians weren't happy, either. Next week, they'd pulled all the anime tapes from the shelves. The tapes never came back, but when they started adding DVDs to the collection they got anime again. No more tentacle shows, though."

Our laughter steadily died down. When it did Eve returned to the shelves, but I just stood there, head down, lost in the brief nostalgia of the moment.

"Yeah, my Mom, she used to love to be out and about, doing stuff," I said. "Now, though… ever since Dad died, she just sits around the house. She almost never moves from the couch except to get food or use the bathroom. She sleeps, watches TV, sleeps again… just on and on. Like she's just wasting away, and there's nothing I can do about it."

I looked up to see Eve watching me with an empathic look. "I'm sorry, Aaron," she said.

I shook my head. "Thanks, but… everybody always says that, and it never makes anything better. All the sympathy in the world doesn't get my mother off that couch. Everyone's always like, 'Oh, she's grieving,' and yeah, but there's a time when you have to stop grieving and start living again! Yes, Dad's dead, and yes it sucks, but that's all in the past. You have to bury it along with him and move on to the future. Why am I the only one who understands that?"

Eve pursed her lips. After some hesitation, she spoke. "It's not so easy, Aaron. My parents and I… we had a difficult relationship. They never trusted me to make my own decisions, and criticized me whenever I wanted to live my own life. Sometimes it seemed that every day they were on my case about how I was ruining my life. But even still, there were good days. Birthday parties, and summer vacations. I remember when I joined the scouts when I was ten and Dad showed me how to start a campfire in the backyard, and then we stayed up late watching the stars and roasting marshmallows. I remember going on a ski trip when I was really young, and flying down the mountain three in a row, holding dad's right hand and mom's left, laughing. I remember I won first prize at an art show in junior high and they were so proud of me. And as much as I'd like to forget all the bad stuff..." she trailed off, lost.

"You were in the Girl Scouts?", I asked.

Eve looked at me with a face halfway between annoyance and incredulity. "Uh, hello? I'm trying to pour out my soul, here?"

"Never mind that, I want to know about this! I'm trying to imagine you in one of those green outfits, and It just doesn't make sense."

She stared at me for a second before turning aside with a smile and a shake of her head. "Asshole."

I laughed. "I'm sorry, Eve. I did hear what you were saying, and I appreciate it, but I shouldn't have thrown all that on you in the first place. It's my trouble, not yours. I have to deal with it myself."

"Aaron, you do remember that I said that if you ever needed to talk about it, I'd be there, right?"

"I know, but… I just don't like seeing you down. It's not a great look for you. You look better when you're happy."

Eve rolled her eyes. "There you go with that charmer act again."

"Yeah, I'm hopeless, aren't I?" I said. "I do appreciate it, though. Thanks, Eve. Sorry to cause trouble."

She waved her hand dismissively. "No trouble. What kind of a girl would I be if I let my friends wallow in misery alone?"

"Wallowing in misery together is better?", I asked doubtfully.

"They do say it loves company," Eve replied.

We went back to browsing the shelves. A moment passed in silence. "So, how many cookies did you sell?", I offered.

"Huh?" Eve said.

"In the Girl Scouts."

"Oh!" Eve smiled, "Uh, none. You're not wrong that the uniform didn't suit me. I was in the scouts for I think about four months. Reeeeeally wasn't my..." she stopped in mid-sentence, spying something on the top shelf. "Duuuuuude…," she said. "I know what we're getting!"

Before I could ask, Eve had her foot on the second shelf of the stack and was reaching up to the top.

"Whoa, hey!" I said. "Don't do that, if they see you..."

"I'm fine," Eve said curtly. Even with the extra height, she was too short to reach the DVD cases on the top shelf. She grabbed at them, but only succeeded in knocking them further back.

"Eve, seriously, that's not a good idea!", I said.

"I've got it, alright! I just need..." she grabbed at the cases and failed again. "Dammit!", she said. She put both feet up on the shelf to give herself a few extra inches.

"Eve, those shelves aren't all that..."

"I'm not a kid, Aaron! I've almost got..."

With a groan of straining metal, the shelf Eve was standing on dropped. It only fell a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to throw Eve off-balance. She flailed in the air, suspended in freefall for one terrifying fraction of a second. Before I could even think about it, I lunged to intercept her falling body. I caught her, but she fell with such force that I was nearly knocked off my feet. Eve managed to catch the shelf opposite to arrest her momentum, and I dropped into a half-crouch. Between us we managed to regain our balance.

All this happened in an instant, too fast for my brain to follow. When I caught up to the situation, I found myself holding Eve in an awkward position somewhere between a ballroom dip and a bridal carry. Her frame was small and light, and my arms did not strain from holding her. Her hood had fallen back, and our faces were very close together- close enough that I could feel her breath on my cheek, and smell the floral scent of shampoo from her hair. Her deep blue eyes were wide with surprise and confusion at her sudden fall, and I sensed more than felt or heard her heart beating fast. I must have had a similar 'what-the-hell-just-happened' expression on my face. We stayed in that pose, dumbstruck, for what seemed like a very long time, even though it was probably mere seconds.

"You okay?", I asked, trying to compose myself.

Her reply was a bit shaken. "Uh… yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks."

I helped her back to her feet. She immediately stepped away from me and put her hood back up. She pulled it very close, but I could still see she was flushed. I took stock of myself: uninjured, and I didn't think my hands had touched Eve anywhere less-than-gentlemanly. So, everything fine. Okay.

"Uh, you know, they have these things…," I retrieved a footstool from the other end of the shelf and returned. "What did you see up there?", I asked.

"_Revolutionary Girl Utena_." She pointed to the top shelf. "You know it?"

"By reputation only. It's by the guy who did _Sailor Moon_'s third season. Fun series, but very much a product of the _Evangelion_ era. So I hear, anyway."

"I've always wanted to see it. Get volumes one and two," Eve said, practically jumping up and down from delight.

I set down the stool. Standing on it, I could reach the top shelf easily. I found _Utena_ and browsed through the discs. "They're missing volumes 1 and 4, it looks like. How about 2 and 3 instead?"

Eve groaned. "We can't start in the middle! Dammit!"

I shrugged helplessly.

"Oh, let's just go," Eve said. "Our food should be ready by now, we'll find something to watch back home."

"There's still other stuff..."

"Aaron, let's just go, alright. Before…," she trailed off.

"Before what?", I asked.

Eve hesitated before answering. When she did, it was in a harsh whisper midway between anger and embarrassment. "Before the librarian peeks in and sees how my stupid ass broke their shelves."

I snickered. "Well, when you put it that way…"

There was a Chinese place between Sugar Tats and the library. We had stopped in to order take-out on the way, and picked it up on the way back. Setting sun at our backs, we walked side-by-side down the sidewalk, carrying bags of egg rolls and lo mein while chatting about anime. Eve was quite the fangirl. She knew about the big titles that aired on cable TV, the smaller ones that were big on the internet, and even a few of the more obscure titles that never made it out of Japan. I wasn't as into it as her, but I could keep up. I told her about the time I had stayed up until 5AM on a Sunday morning watching a showing of _Akira_ on cable TV that stretched out to 3 hours thanks to massive commercial breaks. I asked her about her all-time favorite. She mentioned a few, including _Ghost in the Shell_.

"The Major is badass," I said approvingly.

"She _is_ badass!", Eve enthused. "Did you see near the end of the first season, where that big mech tears off her arm and she grabs a big ass anti-tank rifle with her good hand and just unloads one round after another into the mech, stone cold?"

"Hells yeah!", I said. "Or how about that flashback episode, where she..."

I was interrupted by the sound of loud hip-hop music. Eve and I turned around to see a black Jeep rolling up the block. Eve swore under her breath. "Come on," she told me, picking up her pace. "We'll take the next turn."

Unfortunately, we were in the middle of the block, and the Jeep caught up with us first. It was Tyrone's. He was behind the wheel, Chico in the back seat, and a familiar bleached-blond douche leaned out the front passenger window up to his waist. "Hey, hey! It's Little Blue Riding Hood. How's it going, girl?"

"Fuck off, Chad," Eve snarled.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that, just wanna talk..."

We both ignored him.

"Come on, girl. Where you headed?", Chad continued. "Hop in and we can take you for a ride, know what I mean?" he humped his crotch against the doorframe to make it obvious what he meant.

"Fuck off," Eve repeated.

"Hey, your boyfriend can come too. He can watch, we'll show him how it's done!" He laughed an ugly laugh. Chico shook his head from the back seat. Eve just ignored him. "Yo, serious, girl," Chad continued, "give your boy Tucker a message from me?"

"Tell him yourself," Eve said coldly.

"Girl, come on! He don't show at the park anymore, and you know your sister banned us from the shop!"

"Your problem, not mine."

"But I need a fix, girl! Tucker's the only guy who sells the good stuff!"

Tyrone grabbed Chad by the back of his pants and yanked him back inside. "Sit yo fool ass down and shut yo mouth, Chad! We out in the open!"

"Yeah, man," Chico added. "We've got enough stash for awhile. 'Sides, you're gonna lose your head if you keep sticking it out like that."

Chad clicked his tongue dismissively. "Man, forget both you guys! I need..."

The three started arguing amongst themselves. We reached the corner and took a tight turn as they stopped for a red light. When Chad saw us walking away, he leaned out the window again. "Alright, Blue, whatever you want. When you get the urgin', you know where we'll be!"

Eve flipped him off over her shoulder.

"Aw, quit playin', you know we got what you need! A little bud, a little forty, a little ten-inch..."

Eve whirled on him. "I'd rather drown in a forty than take it from you!"

Chad had a retort, but it was cut off by the music firing up again and Tyrone rolling up the window, causing Chad to pull back rather than get his face crushed. When the light turned green, the Jeep drove off. We kept walking.

"God, what a bunch of morons," Eve said.

"No argument here," I said. "Are they still giving you trouble at the park?"

Eve sighed. "I don't go there anymore. I can draw in my room, or up on the roof. The only reason I liked the park is the sound of the fountain, and you can't even hear it over their music every night."

"Ah, that's too bad," I said. We had come to Sugar Tats, and I took the bags while Eve fumbled with her keys in the garage door. "Y'know," I added, "If it's the water you like, the beach is just forty minutes drive."

"Nah. Beaches mean swimsuits, and I don't like swimsuits."

"Why?", I asked. "You'd look good in one."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, Aaron."

"No, you would, really."

"No, I wouldn't, really. Look at me, I'm a fucking banana."

"I think you're cute," I said with a smile.

The lock on the door opened. Eve adjusted her hood briefly before crouching to roll the door open.

"Besides, bananas are good," I added. "I like bananas. Eat them with my cereal all the time."

"Uh-huh." Eve said it skeptically, but I saw that she was smiling.

Upstairs, I plopped the bags on the table and Eve started unloading them. "Plates and glasses in the cabinet over the sink, forks and knives under the microwave."

"You mind if I use the bathroom first?" I asked.

"Sure thing," Eve said. "Right through my room."

The bathroom had cheap fixtures, but was very clean. After using the toilet, I went to wash my hands, but the soap bottle on the sink was bone dry.

"Eve!" I called. "You're out of soap!"

"Look in the medicine cabinet!" she called back. I swung it open. In a sudden, panicked voice, Eve added, "Be careful, it…!"

Too late. The force of the cabinet door opening tipped the cabinet forward just far enough to make it vomit the entire contents of it's shelves into the sink basin. I jumped back, my hands in the air. The sink filled up with jars and bottles and boxes. A few clattered out onto the floor below.

Eve appeared at the door, hood down, with a grimace on her face. "Sorry!," she said. "I forgot to mention that it does that."

Luckily, nothing seemed to have spilled or broken. I helped her gather up some of the stuff on the floor. "How long has it been like that?", I asked.

"Grace says since she moved in," She walked up to the sink and gave the cabinet a quick lift and push to set it right. "There's screws loose on the back or something."

I brought the bottles over and started stacking them back on the shelves. "Has anybody tried to fix it?"

"It's not easy to get back there, and it's not a problem if you're just gentle with..."

Suddenly Eve's arm lashed out like a cobra striking and snatched something from the sink basin. She stuffed it quickly into her pocket, but not before I'd seen what it was: a translucent orange prescription bottle. I looked at her and saw worry verging on panic in her eyes. Her free hand clutched at her hood, as if on instinct. I held up a hand in a gesture of reassurance.. "It's alright," I said. "If you want to say, fine. If not, it's none of my business."

This seemed to calm her a bit. I took a look at the containers in my hands and the sink. Three women lived in this house, and a woman's medicine cabinet is a chest of occult alchemical reagents to a man's eyes. "I… have no idea where any of this goes," I admitted.

"Um… yeah," Eve said. "Why don't you leave that to me? You can wash your hands in the kitchen sink."

I did exactly that. Then we ate dinner in front of the couch, munching on steamed dumplings and fried rice while watching some lame but funny reality show about parking enforcement. Afterwards, Eve recommended we play some games. I agreed. I didn't want to leave just yet, even though it was starting to get late.

I followed her back into her room. She gestured at the collection of discs under the TV. While Eve rummaged in a pile of sketchbooks by her bed, I browsed through the game discs. Most of the games were a few years old, I think the most recent was still from last year. There were mostly action games, some rhythm games, a racer or two, and…

"Holy shit!", I said. "Is that..." I pulled a case out. It was. "The new _Tekken!" '_New' was probably not the right word, but I had never played it, so it was new to me. Oh, we gotta play this! I used to be a huge fan of the series. You play much?"

"Well, I used to," Eve said. "Kinda got out of it, but I think I can still remember."

"Sweet! Let's go!" I turned on the console and TV, put the disc in, grabbed a controller, and sat down cross-legged before the TV. Eve came over and sat down next to me.

"Get ready for a beating," I said with a smirk. "I was The Man at _Tekken_."

Eve laughed and picked up the second controller as the title screen came up. "Show me what you've got."

Ten brutal defeats later, two thing were obvious to me: Eve knew this game very, very, well, and I wasn't as badass as I thought.

"Out of practice, huh?", I said doubtfully.

Eve gave me a shit-eating grin. "Welllllll… I might have been getting back into it recently." I could practically hear the wink emoji on the end of that line.

"Yeah, well, we ain't done yet, I'm just getting warmed up!"

And then she continued beating me bloody.

Eve surprised me; there's no law against girls being good at video games, not even an unwritten law, but it's something rare. Women are social creatures, much moreso than men. At school, they always congregated in groups, and I'd often seen them doing the same when out at play. Videogames, on the other hand, are largely a solitary hobby. There's multiplayer, sure, and MMOs, and some games are even played as sports, but the majority of one's gaming time is still spent alone in a room. Any woman could equal any man at any game if she practiced as much as him, but most would rather spend time talking, or texting, or socializing- their relationships are more important.

When you think about it, it made perfect sense that Eve would have the time. Actually, when I thought about it, all her hobbies were solitary hobbies. Drawing, anime, listening to music… all things done primarily alone. Not to mention the amount of studying she had to be doing to keep her grades as high as they were. Only a girl who barely ever talked to anybody, always sat alone at lunch, and was teased or ignored by her entire school… was that the price of having so much free time?

I looked at Eve, her eyes glued to the screen, mouth fixed in the bland smile of somebody completely absorbed in a game. Had it always been this way for her? Was this a new thing, since she moved into town, or did it extend back into her life before? Eve, always the lone wolf, always by herself, always veiled by a cat-eared hood. Draw inexorably to ways she could have fun while remaining alone. How many hours had she spent in a room like this, with no company except her distractions, to get so good at those distractions? More than that, why? Why did she avoid social contact so much? What was she afraid of?

And what made me different?

My train of thought was derailed by the game announcing another addition to Eve's dominating winning streak. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I had barely been paying attention.

"That last round wasn't so hot, Aaron," she said. "Had enough?"

I scoffed. "Yeah, right! I ain't ready to quit. One more!"

"You have to say, 'Please, ma'am, may I have another?'" she said with an evil smile.

"Yeah, keep trash-talking. I'll make you eat those words soon enough!"

We started another match.

"Eve?", I asked a few seconds in.

"Hmm?" she said, not turning from the game.

"I'm glad I could spend time with you today."

She turned to look at me, looking a little confused. I smiled warmly, and she dropped her eyes, smiled back bashfully… and in the process, took her eyes and her attention off the game long enough for me to catch her in a lethal combo. "K.O.!" the game announced. I threw my hands up in the air and cheered. Eve's jaw dropped. "No fair!", she yelled. She punched me in the shoulder, but not hard. "You cheater! What the hell?!"

"A win's a win. Ain't no rule says you can't distract your opponent!", I said.

"Yeah, well don't get cocky, newbie! There's three rounds in a match, and that was just number one."

"Which means I've got two chances to chalk up another and break your streak!"

I lost both.

After numerous more defeats, I finally dropped the controller and flopped back onto the floor, my legs in the air like a dead horse. "Ugh, enough. I give."

"Oh, really," Eve taunted. "I thought you were just warming up?"

I sat back up. "I've warmed up all the way to overheated. I give! I bow before your superior _Tekken_ skills!"

"Yes! I am the _Tekken_ master! The Woman who beat The Man! WOO!" Eve imitated the sound of a crowd cheering. I chuckled. Despite losing all but two out of I-lost-count-of-how-many matches, it had been fun. Even if I was walking away with a bruised ego.

The ad-hoc celebration was interrupted by my cell phone going off. I took it out and checked the caller. "It's my Aunt," I told Eve. I answered the phone. "Hi, Aunt Diane."

"Where are you, Aaron?!", she yelled over the phone.

"At a friends house." I said, defensively. "I told Mom I was going, she should have…"

"Do you know what time it is?!"

"Uh… the time…," I looked at Eve, who got out her phone and checked it.

"It's eleven o'clock!" Diane screamed at me. Eve turned her phone toward me with a grimace. 11:07, it said.

"Shit!" I said, getting to my feet. "I'm sorry, I must have lost track! Uh… could you come pick me up? I'm at… you know a place called Sugar Tats?"

Silence on the line.

"Aunt Diane?", I asked.

"Aaron," she said, in a forcibly restrained tone, "I'm not mad, but please tell me, what are you doing at eleven at night at a place called 'Sugar Tits'?"

"_Tats_! Not Tits! Sugar _Tats_!", I protested. Eve overheard and choked back a snickering laugh. "It's… ugh, never mind," I continued. "Look, pick me up at the northwest corner of the park, I'll explain everything, all right?"

Diane sighed. "Fine, fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"'Kay, see you then. Bye." I hung up. "Jesus, I really didn't know it was that late."

"Time flies," said Eve. She got to her feet and shook her legs to drive off the pins and needles that comes from sitting cross-legged for so long.

"When you're having fun, yeah," I replied.

Eve smiled. "Let me walk you out, the garage door takes a bit of a knack."

She led me down the stairs and out the garage door to the sidewalk. The street was mostly empty, but bright streetlamps and light shining out the windows of residences up and down the street kept it from being too ominous. The light at the shop downstairs was also still on; that back tat Grace was working on must have been a really badass one. As I walked out, Eve stood just inside the garage door. I turned to her. "Thanks for having me over today. I had a really great time."

"Thanks for coming. So did I."

"We should do it again sometime," I offered.

"Sure. Start training, we'll have a rematch after you've improved some."

"I'd like that." I stood there, smiling. It was time for me to wave and say goodbye, but I hesitated. There was a look in Eve's eyes, something tantalizing but unknown. A question? A wish, maybe? Perhaps…

With the swiftness of a pouncing fox, Eve crossed the small distance between us and kissed me on the cheek. It happened lightning-fast; by the time I had realized what had happened, she had already retreated back to the door. Her hand hovered in front of her face, but couldn't hide a smile at once giddy and mischievous. She waved. "Bye, Aaron," she said.

"See you at school," I replied.

Eve pulled the garage door closed, and the handle groaned into the locked position.

I touched the tiny wet spot on my cheek where Eve had kissed me. A kiss on the cheek is supposed to indicate failure- success is getting it on the lips- but it didn't feel like a failure. Not at all. I smiled, even though there wasn't anybody around to see it. I turned and walked down the block to the park, my steps light and energetic despite the fact that it was close to midnight.

All in all, it had been a good day.

The next morning, I woke up to find a text from Eve on my phone: "I had a great time today, and I hope we can do it again. But please forget about the kiss. It was a mistake, and I'm sorry."


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

WE'RE RUNNING IN CIRCLES AGAIN

"Seriously?", Kevin said.

I nodded, staring out the window as the trees and houses went by. Kevin had been driving me to school regularly these days. It gave me some extra time in the mornings, and gave him a chance to play the concerned big brother.

"Why would she text you to take back a kiss?", he asked

"I wish I knew! I sent her texts yesterday to ask, but she never returned any of them. We had a great time, I didn't think I did anything wrong but…," I threw up my hands in frustration. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"Uh…," Kevin laughed nervously. "Ronnie, I'd like to help, but I'm not really the guy you want to talk to about women..."

"Well, we're all human, aren't we? Same hearts, same minds... what would you do if a dude who seemed to be into you acted like this?"

"Well, uhh…," he thought for a moment. "I would say that, after the kiss, she must have had second thoughts."

"But why?"

"I don't know, Aaron! It could be a lot of things. Maybe she thought she moved too fast, maybe somebody- like family or something- got in her ear about it, maybe she just didn't… I don't know, all right!"

I scoffed and turned back toward the scenery. Kevin continued driving. Houses rolled by in silence.

"Listen, Aaron," Kevin said eventually. "You're not stupid. You know that if you really want to know what's on Eve's mind, I'm not the person you should be asking."

I sighed. "I know."

Kevin chuckled sardonically. "But you don't want to do it, do you? Because you're afraid you won't like what she says."

I didn't tell him he was right.

"Well, it's natural to be afraid when rejection's on the line. Rejection is painful, after all," Kevin said. "But as a gay man, I can tell you this: one thing a relationship requires is courage. Courage to put yourself out there and let yourself get hurt. Courage to stay there when it's not so great. Courage to try new things together, and sometimes to give up old ones for the greater good. Courage to deal with people who will try to make drama over it. Courage to share in her pain, to stand by her, and sometimes, if it's for the best, courage to walk away. Love is not an easy business, and if you're going to stick with it, you have to be brave."

"Kevin, it's easy to say that, but what if..."

"Yeah, yeah," Kevin interrupted. "What if, what if, what if. You never know if you don't try. Why don't you be honest with me, Aaron? You're not afraid of her telling you something awful. What you're afraid of is that it'll be completely out of your hands."

I grit my teeth and managed to resist the urge to hit the dashboard hard enough to get punched in the face by the passenger-side airbag. "Everything's always out of my hands. Dad, Mom, and now this..."

"It _is_ in your hands, Aaron," Kevin interrupted. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. This is the choice you've got: to take the plunge and find out what you're dealing with, or to wuss out and always wonder whether you gave up on something incredible because you were too scared."

Put that way, it did seem kind of dumb for me to be mooning about. After all, asking was a possible loss, but not asking was a certain loss. Of course, like Kevin said, I wasn't stupid. I already knew all of what he was telling me. But sometimes you need to hear it from someone else before it clicks, and what else are big brothers for?

"So what are you going to do, bro?", Kevin asked.

I sighed, surrendering to the inevitable. "I guess I'm going to talk to Eve in French class."

I didn't get a chance to talk to Eve in French class. For the first time ever, she was late to French. When she walked in, Ms. Bissette was already talking away. She stopped and glared at Eve- she hated interruptions- then made a mark in the attendance book and continued with the lesson. I made eye contact with Eve. She waved and forced a smile, then had to sit down and get right to work. At the end of class she gathered her things and left before I could say anything.

I followed her, but when she saw she picked up her pace. I matched her speed and called out to her, but she only moved faster. I thought we might be heading for a straight-out footchase, but then Eve took a corner too fast and barreled right into Roxy.

The force of the impact knocked them both to the ground, scattering their books on the floor. Roxy landed hard on her rear.

"Ah! Dammit, watch where you're going, you little shit!", Roxy yelled.

"Sorry," Eve said, grabbing at her books.

"'Sorry?', is that all you've got to say, freak?!" Roxy had been walking with two friends- Becca and Missy, I think their names were- who helped her to her feet. She rubbed her bruised ass as her friends, unasked, collected Roxy's books from the floor. "Look at this!" Roxy added, picking up a lollipop from the floor. Dust bunnies clung to it. "Ruined! Why were you running in the halls anyway, twerp?"

Eve got to her feet, books in hand. "It was an accident, okay? Look, I said I was sorry. Don't be a dick about it."

"Accident, my ass!", Roxy yelled. "You shoved me!"

"I didn't!", Eve protested.

"Oh, yes you did! Didn't she, girls?", Roxy asked smugly.

"She did," said Missy.

"I clearly saw a one-handed shove," Becca added.

Roxy smiled. "You see, you were clearly trying to start something."

Eve sneered. "Oh, fuck off, Roxy!"

"You don't tell me to fuck off, you little..." Roxy advanced on Eve, but the possibility of a cat fight was cut off when I managed to slip between them.

"Leave her alone, Roxy," I said. "It was obviously an accident."

Roxy scoffed. "I got two witnesses says it wasn't."

"Yeah," I noted, "and I've got an entire hallway full of witnesses says you wouldn't let it go."

Roxy looked around and noticed that there did, indeed, seem to be a lot of rubberneckers in the hallway. Some of whom were rather eager to see this situation get worse. I saw cellphones out to record and a few guys smiling. After all, if a scuffle ensued, the possibility of Roxy getting her top torn was strong. Well, greater than zero, anyway.

Roxy scoffed and turned her ire on me. "What do you care, dweeb? Is she your girlfriend now?"

The question threw me. "Uhh…," I said, and that was all the opening Roxy needed.

"I have to say, Aaron, I'm disappointed. You're kinda cute, in that brooding loser kind of way. You'd think you could do better than this… thing."

I knew what Roxy was doing. An argument like this wasn't an argument, but a street fight in disguise. It didn't matter if the things said were true, as long as they were hurtful. Getting drawn in was a mistake. Everything you tried to say would either be riposted or turned against you. It's like that saying about arguing with idiots on the internet: they drag you down to their level, then they beat you with experience. But whether you know this or not, you could still get drawn in if the person you were up against knew how to make your blood boil.

"Eve is not a _thing_," I said.

Roxy scoffed. "Please. Look at her. She must be an alien, because no real person could be that ugly!"

"She's like a scarecrow!", Becca said, laughing.

"A half-stuffed scarecrow!", Missy added.

"Why do you think she's always covering herself up like that?", Roxy asked. "And why is she always in and out of the locker room before everybody else? It's because she can't bear to let anybody see how ugly she is!"

Missy and Becca laughed. I looked behind me, and saw that Eve was clearly being affected by their jeers.

"Or hey, maybe it's because she doesn't want us to see the cuts?", Missy offered.

"I bet she does cut herself, the little weirdo", Becca added.

"And what's with the blue hair, anyway? Only dykes dye their hair like that." Roxy added.

"If she's a dyke, why is she with Aaron?", Missy said.

"Maybe she's a loser dyke. A loser dyke and a loser guy, makes perfect sense," Becca added.

"Maybe you need some bi loser to share," Roxy concluded. "You can make ugly people porn together!"

All three of them laughed. It was difficult, but I tamped my anger down. Sticks and stones, just like Mom had always taught me. I shook my head and turned away from these clowns, towards Eve. Her hood was pulled closer than I'd ever seen it, hiding her entire face above her mouth. Her lips trembled. "Come on," I said, "Let's go."

I reached for Eve, but she swatted my hand away and stormed off, moving as far and as fast away from those laughing hyenas as she could.

I turned back to Roxy and her little clique. "Oh, I'm so sorry if I killed your game, perv," she taunted me. "Here, you want another lollipop to even us out?" She held out the dusty, dirty candy to me.

I didn't take it. Didn't say anything. Barely moved. I just stood there, staring at Roxy. Fury molded my gaze into a diamond-tipped drill that bored into Roxy's skull. I must have hit pay dirt, because after a few seconds the laughter ceased. Roxy and company looked back at me with timid, almost fearful expressions.

"Why do you have to treat Eve like that?", I asked softly.

Roxy was thrown for a minute, then recovered with a dismissive snort. "Because she's a loser, duh."

"So what? What do you gain from making her feel like shit?"

Roxy sneered. "What does she get from always going around acting like she's better than everybody? Never talks to anybody, just sits around spying and eavesdropping and drawing freaky death scenes or whatever."

"Why should she talk to you, if every time she does she gets insulted?"

Roxy waved her hand dismissively. "Fuck off, loser. I don't have to explain myself to you, and I don't have to be friends with your loser girlfriend. In fact, you know what? I don't have to be talking with you right now, either. Come on girls, let's go."

The three of them walked off, leaving me seething there in the halls. I wasn't sure if I hated or pitied Roxy more. So much effort she put into making people feel bad, and for what? Sure, she had people fawning at her feet now, but admiration fades over time. Grudges last, and if she kept up with this she'd wind up with no friends and enemies everywhere. Graduation might hit the reset button on her life, but she'd still face the same problem wherever she landed post-high school. But I wasn't sympathetic. Roxy's karmic backlog was her problem. Mine, right now, was getting to English class before the bell.

It didn't take a genius to see Eve was avoiding me. But apparently she had a change of heart, because midway through English class my phone buzzed. I sneaked it out of my pocket and turned it just enough to read the text on the screen: "If you want to talk, meet me in the auditorium at lunchtime."

The auditorium was nearly always empty when there wasn't an assembly going on, and when I walked in Eve was seemingly nowhere to be found. It wasn't until she called to me that I saw her, sitting in the back row of seats, feet up on the headrest of the row below. Her backpack sat in the adjacent seat. The wall hid her from view of anybody near the doors. She gestured for me to come over, and I took the seat next to her, leaving my own backpack in the seat to my left. Our own little backpack-fort in the middle of the auditorium. "Good afternoon," I said. "what're you doing here?"

"Hanging out. Nobody's ever here. Good place to come if you want to break the law."

"Uh… break the law…?", I asked.

She held up a lit joint that she had been hiding somewhere. "Want some?", she asked with a conspiratory grin.

"Uh, no thanks, and you shouldn't be either."

She took a quick hit. "Why, you gonna nark on me?"

"I dunno, you gonna peer-pressure me?"

She snickered.

"Seriously, Eve, I don't have a problem with it, but the reason nobody ever hangs out here is because it's on Annie's checklist. She shows up randomly hoping to catch people doing just what you're doing. If she sees, or smells anything..."

Eve tilted her head back and groaned. "Oh my God, Aaron, you sound just like Grace. It'll be fine. I can stow a joint in a second, if I need to."

"Where, exactly?"

"In my panties. Nobody ever checks there."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, in addition to being slightly illegal, there's also a possibility that joint tastes like ass."

"Girl-ass, yeah. Sure you don't want some?"

"Joint, or ass?" I said, with a grin.

For a second, Eve smiled, but the smile faded quickly, wiped off her face like raindrops by windshield wipers.

I quickly changed the subject. "Where'd you get that, anyway? I thought you couldn't afford one?"

"Borrowed it from Grace."

I gave her a doubtful look. "Borrowed it from someone who didn't want you having it?"

Eve sighed. "Stole, actually. Grace is such a hypocrite! She lights up three times a week to unwind after work, but she makes me be all goody-two-shoes. Like I'm too dumb to keep out of trouble."

"I'd think robbing your roommate's stash is going to mean trouble regardless."

"She won't miss it. It's schlag."

"I'm sorry?", I asked quizzically.

"Schlag. Dirtbud. Weed so low-quality, you have to smoke a dozen of these just to get a little high." She took a long drag, as if to emphasize how worthless it was.

"So, all of the risks of smoking it, but none of the benefits?", I noted.

"Pretty much."

"Why bother, then?"

Eve stared up at the ceiling, seeming to consider the question. "Maybe because it makes me feel free. Like people can't tell me no. Like I'm allowed to be who I want to be."

A moment passed in silence before I spoke. "Eve… about the other night..."

She winced as if the incomplete question caused her pain. "Aaron…" The sentence hang in the air unfinished. She bit her lip, thinking. Took her feet off the chair in front and sat up. Instinct brought her hand to her hood, but after a moment's hesitation, she lowered her hand and turned to look me in the eye. "Aaron, you're a good man. You're sweet, and funny, and I value your friendship. And the other night, it felt good to pretend, just for a moment, that we could be something more. But..." she shook her head, eyes shut tightly in sorrow and frustration. "But we can't. I can't. There's… there's stuff wrong with me, Aaron. Stuff that I can't change. I'm sorry, I really am, but friendship is as far as I can go."

"What is it?", I asked, as gently as I could.

She turned aside from me and shook her head no. "It means a lot that you care, Aaron, but it would…" she bit her lip, uncertain how to continue. "You just don't need to deal with it. It's better this way. I'm sorry."

I considered a minute before raising it. It might do more harm than good. _Be brave_, I thought. _Just like Kevin said_. "Is it something to do with those pills in your medicine cabinet?"

Eve opened her mouth as if to say something, but couldn't bring herself to answer, nor to meet my gaze. So I put it to her directly.

"Are you dying?", I asked.

Eve's reaction was instant. Her gaze snapped back to me, eyes wide in astonishment. "What?!"

"Is that what they're for? Do you have some hideous disease that's killing you slowly?"

Her mouth hung open for a second. Then it snapped shut. In quick succession, she sputtered, her cheeks inflated like a balloon, a smile creased her mouth, and then the balloon ripped open and she bust out laughing. She fell back in her seat from laughing so hard. Slid down in it until she was struggling not to fall on the floor. She laughed and laughed and laughed. I watched incredulous. And a little pissed too, if I'm being honest.

"It's not funny!", I protested.

And of course this only made Eve laugh even harder. She laughed so much she teared up. It was at least a minute before she was able to compose herself enough to sit upright again and wipe the moisture out of her eyes. "Aaron, you're really something else," she told me. "You can always cheer me up, even when you're not even trying. No, it's nothing like that, and I'm sorry if I misled you. But it is something that I have to deal with on my own. And I need you to let me."

I hung my head and sighed. "Well… if that's really what you want, then..."

A terrifyingly familiar voice rung out from behind me. "This room is off-limits!"

I whirled around. (Fucking) Annie stood in the aisle with arms crossed, glaring at us. Fortunately, me and my backpack gave Eve had enough cover to stash the joint before Annie noticed.

"Jesus, Annie!" I retorted. "Are you trying to give us heart att-"

"No backtalk!" the tyrannical hall monitor barked. "The school rulebook clearly states that the auditorium is to be kept clear except when in official use! I won't have..."

"Alright, alright, we're leaving!" I yelled. We both took our backpacks and got up from our seats. "God, Annie, what is your problem?!"

"Today?," Annie said, pulling out her notepad. "Let me go down the list: Trespassing in restricted areas of the school, eating outside approved lunch areas…,"

"We weren't eating!", I protested.

"Arguing with a representative of the administration, insulting a fellow student…,"

Eve was making disinterested "Yakkity-yak" gestures.

"Oh, yes," Annie said, grinning like a slasher. "And violation of the new school dress code."

I gave her a confused look. "Dress code? We don't have a dress code!"

"Not officially, no, but I've submitted a few suggestions to the administration, and I expect them to be coming back with approval shortly," said Annie smugly. "Among other things like visible non-ear piercings and excessive bare skin, hair dye in non-natural colors is now prohibited."

"What?!" I yelled.

"That's bullshit!", Eve added, grasping protectively at the tips of her hair.

"I'll add 'foul language' to the list, then," Annie said.

"No, Eve is right, it's B.S.!", I said. "Eve is the only person in school who dyes her hair, you're targeting her specifically!"

"This is profiling!" Eve protested. I wasn't sure if that was the right word, but never mind that.

"Well, if you're going to dress like a delinquent, then expect to be treated like one," Annie said smugly.

Eve grit her teeth. "You rotten..." She tried to push past me to get at Annie, but I stopped her.

"Eve, calm down," I told her. "She's just trying to get you angry."

"She's doing a good job of that!" Eve barked.

"Oh, violence now?", Annie said with crossed arms. "I'm sure the administration would just love to hear about your latest offense."

"You're an offense, you childish little brat!", Eve yelled.

Annie's eyes widened. The lame comeback normally wouldn't be worth mentioning, but Annie was very insecure about her height. Calling her childish or 'little' was a sure way to send her berserk. "What did you… just say…?", she said menacingly.

"Ease up, Eve," I said, "this is just what she wants. Come on, let's go." Eve pursed her lips tightly, but saw reason and turned on her heel. I followed her to the opposite aisle.

Too late to put out the fire, though. "What did you call me?!" Annie bellowed. Eve responded by throwing a middle finger over her shoulder as we clambered away through the cramped row of seats.

"Oh, don't you walk away now, you blue-haired thug!", Annie yelled. "Nobody talks to me like that! Get back here!"

She was gaining on us, propelled by a rage that was only ever born of unchecked egotism. I took a pen out of my pocket, pulled the cap off with my teeth, dropped the pen on the floor just in front of me, and stepped over it without breaking my stride. It was a very lame trick- it worked maybe one out of twenty times- but either karma or dumb luck was on my side. In the process of pursuing us, Annie stepped on the pen and it rolled across the floor, taking her foot with it. She lost balance and fell backwards, landing sprawled between the rows of seats on her behind. Eve turned, hearing Annie's yelp of surprise, and laughed a wicked witch's cackle at her hated foe's misfortune. I prodded Eve onward. "Come on, let's go, let's go!" Annie would be up in a second, and mad.

"That's it!", Annie yelled, almost incoherent with rage. "I will see you both in detention after school today! This behavior will not be tolerated! Don't make me..."

And so on. We ignored Annie's ranting and walked fast to the auditorium door, and past that to the nearest door to the schoolyard. Out in the fresh air, we slowed our pace. Eve was still livid. "Can you believe her?! Going after me for my hair?!"

"Fucking Annie, right? Maybe you should shave yourself bald to spite her?", I suggested.

Eve glared daggers at me. Fiery poisoned daggers.

"Sorry," I said. "Not my best material. But hey, don't be worried. Annie makes so many recommendations that the principal's stopped listening to them. I doubt this one's going to go anywhere."

"Probably not, but…," she threw her hands up in frustration. "Why me?"

"It's not you, Annie's an asshole to everybody. You just happened to be in range this time. Next time it'll be someone else."

Eve started to walk away. "But it's not just her," she spread her arms wide to encompass the entire campus. "Everybody at this school hates my guts!"

I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. They're all assholes, maybe. Look on the bright side: a few more months, we'll be out of here."

Eve sighed. "Yeah. Wish I could be out of here now." She slumped against the yellow-brick wall of the school building and stared up at the sky. Her backpack dangled heavily from her hand, like she'd very much like to just drop it and walk off without a care. It was a clear day, just a few clouds hanging around, and the sky was bright blue, almost as if it was staring back at Eve with eyes just as blue as her own.

I knew what Eve was saying. Everybody I knew said the same thing on a bad day, and me too. High school was drama, and drama is fun at any time and place that you aren't. As a kid, you look forward to high school, and as an adult you look back on it nostalgically. It's easy to forget that when you're there, you'd rather be anywhere else. So we stare into the sky and dream of a future where we can put all this bullshit behind us.

"Have you eaten?", I asked.

Eve shook her head no. "I don't need half your sandwich again, thanks."

"Then you can pay me back instead. Let's hit the pizza place for a couple slices." There was a small pizzeria a block or so from the school. Nice place to drop in whenever you wanted something more substantial than cafeteria slop.

Eve shook her head again. "There'll just be assholes there, too."

"Yeah, maybe, but they might be better behaved. Besides, Annie might still be looking for us, best to hide off-campus until the end of lunch."

Eve looked at me briefly, then down at her feet with a small smile. "Well… I suppose I do still owe you. All right, let's go."

She hefted her backpack up on her shoulder. We walked across the parking lot, staying close to the wall so that nobody ran us over on their way out for lunch. But no sooner had we taken five steps than a horn sounded behind us. Tyrone's big Jeep pulled up alongside us.

"Hey, Blue!", Tyrone said. "Got a little present for you!" He jerked his thumb at the rear drivers-side window, where Chad leaned out from the waist up. He was holding a jumbo-sized super soaker water gun.

"Say hello to my little friend!", Chad said.

Because of course he would use that quote.

Chad pulled the trigger and hosed Eve down. That guns were powerful; before I could even react, Eve was soaked practically head to toe. Chad bust out laughing. Tyrone joined in, as did Chico, barely visible in the rear seat beside Chad. Eve stood there, mouth gaping and clothes dripping. She was not amused. I wasn't either.

"What the hell, Chad?!", I yelled.

In response, Chad took a shot at me. This shot was weaker- you have to pump between shots to keep a good stream- but still left me with a line of wetness from my collar down. The morons laughed again.

"Hey man, it's a hot day, just thought you might like to cool off some!", Tyrone quipped.

"Yeah, want some more?", Chad asked, pumping the gun. "Open wide, baby Blue, maybe you can get a buzz off of the next one!"

_Buzz?_, I thought. Then I noticed an unexpected smell in the air. I sniffed my shirt to be sure. "This isn't water!", I said.

Eve had come to the same conclusion. "Beer?! You hosed me down with beer?!"

Tyrone abruptly stopped laughing.

"Hell yeah, baby!" said Chad. "You said you wanted to drown in a forty, well there you go!" He stopped pumping and leveled the gun. "Sure you ain't thirsty for-"

Chad was interrupted by Tyrone leaning out of his own window to smack him across the back of the head. "You dumbass! You hosed them with beer?!"

"What the hell, man!", Chad protested. "I thought..."

"We're on school grounds, moron!" Tyrone yelled. "What if someone sees?! Get back in the car!"

Without waiting for Chad to comply, Tyrone floored the gas and peeled out. Chad lost his footing and flailed trying not to fall out of the car entirely, until Chico grabbed him by the band of his pants and awkwardly pulled Chad back in. The car made a hard right out of the lot and was gone.

"Crash and die, assholes!", Eve yelled after them.

I wasn't exactly cool-headed myself. The sour scent of cheap beer assaulted my nostrils. "Fucking hell, this is a new low!", I said. "We ought to tell someone!"

Eve gave me a glaring look of disappointment. "Who? Annie?"

She had a point. We were soaked in alcohol and smelled like a brewery. Annie would just assume we had been drinking ourselves and haul us into the principal- that was shit the administration _couldn't_ just dismiss as Fucking Annie. Telling a teacher would probably have the same result. At a quick look around the area, I saw no witnesses to back us up. Those pricks were going to get away with it.

I sighed. "Eve, I owe you an apology."

She looked at me confusedly.

"I was wrong before. This is _not_ a good afternoon."

Eve smiled slightly. Then, either laughing or crying- it was hard to tell which- she more or less fell into my chest and hugged me. Caught off guard, I had only just brought my arms up to return the hug when she pushed away from me.

"Sorry, sorry...", she said. "I'm getting beer stank all over you. God, what a mess." She wiped her face with her sleeves. Eve's treasured cat-ear hoodie- the one she wore so often it was practically trademarked- was soaked through and ruined. Possibly for good.

"Let's go," I said. "We should get off-campus before somebody finds us smelling like this."

"Yeah, good idea..." Eve said. "Let's go to my place, we can wash these clothes there."

"We'll miss lunch and the next class just getting there and back. Let's go to mine instead, it's closer," I suggested.

"Isn't your Mom home?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "She won't give a shit. She doesn't give a shit about anything these days."

"She might give a shit if you show up smelling like beer."

"From what you've told me, Grace will give a lot more shit, and most of that shit you'll get."

"I know, but… look, I'll just be a lot more comfortable doing it at my place. Besides, we won't get any shit if we can sneak in without anyone knowing."

It turned out that this wasn't Eve's first time sneaking back home in the middle of a school day, and she knew what she was doing. I never seen someone open and close a creaking old garage door so quietly. Upstairs in the bathroom, there was a box-like rectangular device about as tall as the sink. I'd noticed it when I was in here before, but didn't pay much attention to it. Turns out, it was a compact washing machine that had room for both our clothes. Apparently, Odette had bought it as an apology gift after ruining three of Grace's shirts, three pairs of pants, four undies, one skirt, two bras, and a hair scrunchy all during a single house party. (I never got the full story on that, beyond Odette being a very sloppy drunk.)

Eve didn't want to be seen in her underwear, so it took us a while to work logistics. Eve undressed in the bathroom. I stripped to my socks and briefs in Eve's room, then passed my clothes through the bathroom door, which Eve then closed from inside. "How long will this take?" I asked.

"A quick load takes about twenty minutes." Eve called from inside. "They'll be a little damp, but just wear them outside for a bit and they'll dry right off."

The contents of my pockets were sitting in a pile nearby. I took my phone and checked it. "Lunchtime just ended at school," I said.

Eve made a dismissive sound. "Forget that. I'm just going to hide out here for the rest of the day. My daily drama quota has been exceeded twice over."

"What if Grace finds you?"

"She won't; once the shop opens, she's downstairs for the rest of the day. Unless she or Odette wants to eat lunch or dinner out of the fridge, and that's rare. Three fifteen, I'll sneak down, pretend like I'm just getting in, say hi, come right back up, and she'll never be the wiser."

"Alright, then." After a pause, I added: "Will your hoodie be okay?"

She laughed. "I've worn it every day since I got it. This isn't the first time I've had to wash something nasty out of it." From inside I heard the sound of a washer firing up.

"Still and all," I said. "It pisses me off that those clowns are going to get away with it." I made a fist and smacked my palm. "Wish we could get even somehow."

"Like how, beat them up?" Eve asked skeptically.

"Not like that, just… ah, forget it," I said. "You really like that hoodie, don't you?", I asked.

"Yeah. It was a gift from Grace on my 18th birthday. It meant a lot to me. Mom and Dad didn't like it, on account of the ears."

"What's wrong with the ears?", I asked.

"Oh... they... thought it meant… I dunno, code for 'pussy', or something. Like I was a degenerate woman."

"Not big anime fans?"

"Not big fans of anything I did."

"Sorry to hear that," I said sympathetically.

"Wish I couldn't say it," a sigh. "I'm sorry, you don't want to hear me bitching about them..."

"No apologies," I cut in. "Say whatever you want. Or say nothing, if you want. I'll always be there to listen."

Eve snickered. "You might end up regretting those words someday."

"Never," I said resolutely. "I enjoy the musical sound of your voice."

She said nothing, but if I knew her as well as I thought I did, she was smiling. Maybe blushing a little.

For a moment there was silence. I brought up the news on my phone and went looking for tragedies that made some dirty clothes look insignificant.

"Say, Aaron," Eve said, "as long as you're out there, can you do me a favor?"

"Whatcha need?", I asked.

"Take down a few of those sketches; I'll need the clothesline to dry my clothes."

I raised an eyebrow. "No drier?"

"We're old-school around here. Saves money. Put the sketches on my desk."

I did as she said. Most of them I'd seen last time, but among them I noticed a new one. It was a colored pencil anime-style sketch of a blue-haired woman. She wore a lavender halter top with matching leggings, plus a black leather jacket and boots. In her right hand was a hi-tech pistol, which she pointed at something just over the viewer's shoulder. She looked familiar.

"Hey, Eve…," I said.

"Yeah?", came her voice from the other side of the door.

"What's this new one? Looks like The Major from _Ghost in the Shell_," I noted.

"It does, yeah. What do you think of it?"

"It's good," I said. "You really captured her. Except…"

Beyond the bathroom door, Eve was silent, waiting patiently for me to finish.

"Well, her hair…" I said. "It's supposed to be a dark purple, probably black if you want a more realistic version. This blue is…" I stopped. Took another look at the drawing's face. Tilted my head to the side. "Is this a self-portrait?"

"Yep!", she said in a sprightly tone.

Now that I took a closer look, it wasn't The Major at all, though that was clearly an inspiration. The Major didn't wear leggings or black boots. Eve's character also had some accessories that didn't match: a technological device of unclear purpose behind her ear, fingerless gloves, and wires running from ports on her left shoulder twined around her arm down to the wrist. Her bust and hips were a little too big for Eve, but it was still awesome.

"It's cool", I said. "Cyberpunk Eve. Badass."

She giggled. "Thanks, I'm glad you like it." She sighed. "I did it for Ms. Ross, but I don't think I'll turn it in. She'll probably reject it the same as all the others."

"Is that your extra credit project for her? A self-portrait?"

"Yeah, but she's all crazy about it. She said I could do something fantastic or abstract, but everything I bring her, she tells me the same thing: 'It's who you _want_ to be, not who you _are_.'"

I raised an eyebrow. "How does she know who you are better than you yourself?"

"I know! Where does she get off?! I mean, okay, she's a teacher, I'm a student, but don't tell an artist how to art, goddammit!"

I shook my head. "Yeah, I know." I piled the sketches on the desk, as requested, then I sat back down next to the bathroom door. "People are like that," I opined. "When you're young, adults are always saying you you can be anything you want to, but when you get older and decide you want to be something they can't accept, suddenly you're the one that doesn't know themselves. When Kevin came out to his parents, it was a long time before they were able to accept it. They actually told him to try being bi, so that they could still have grandkids."

"Seriously?!", Eve said, incredulous.

"Yeah, he didn't take it well," I laughed. "They came around eventually, but… I dunno, I guess after changing somebody's diapers and tying their shoes, parents get used to their kids not being able to get by without their help. It's the same for everybody; when we're 40, we'll probably still be hearing older people bitch about how they could live our lives better than us."

"Of course, by then we might be changing _their_ diapers," Eve noted.

I laughed. Silence, again.

"Aaron," Eve asked, suddenly serious, "do you think I'm fake?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Am I pretending to be something I'm not?"

I scoffed. "Eve, come on. You're the most real girl I know. Nobody tells you what to do, to think, or to be. Or if they do, you don't listen."

"Yeah, but…," she hesitated. "but, what if that isn't what I'm meant to be?"

"Nobody's 'meant' to be anything, Eve. We are what we _decide_ to be. If you want to draw yourself as a badass woman, you should. If you want to try and be that woman, you can. You should be allowed to be whatever and whoever you're happy being. If someone else has a problem with it, tough for them."

"But... what if everybody hates me for it?", Eve asked. "What if you hate me?"

"Eve, I could never hate you. I'd be more unhappy if you tried to be someone you're not just because of me. Then you'd be fake and miserable about it, and I'd..."

An unhealthy mechanical grinding was heard from the bathroom. It quickly stopped. "Sorry," Eve said. "This thing starts acting up sometimes. Can we finish this conversation later? I should wash the beer out of my hair."

"'Sokay," I said. "Let me know when it's done."

I sat there in silence for a while, listening to the dull whirring of the washer and the water running in the bathtub. Suddenly I jumped as a blast of loud metal music erupted from the main room. The door between the rooms was mostly closed. Approaching carefully, I peered through the crack and beheld a jaw-dropping site. Odette was dancing in the middle of the floor, alternately munching on and singing into a leftover eggroll from our chinese feast two days earlier. That wasn't what dropped my jaw. What dropped my jaw was the fact that she was wearing nothing except panties and stockings.

I am not normally a voyeur, but given the body Odette had, it was difficult not to look away. She was curved in all the right places- hips, butt, thighs, and massive tits that somehow didn't sag a bit. She was like a walking wet dream. Like Roxy done _right_. She headbanged hard enough to whip her raven-black hair back and forth in waves, then moshed along to the song in the middle of the floor. Her tits bounced. And bounced. And bounced some more. My underwear was suddenly very, very tight, but I couldn't look away. It got worse when a bridge came on and she leaned forward towards the music and started licking the eggroll like she was preparing to fellate it. '_Oh, man,_' I thought, '_I really gotta look away or things are going to get really awkward when Eve comes out of that bathroom._'

I didn't look away. I have no excuse; blame it on my youth.

Then Odette's gaze swung past the doorway. Seconds later, she did a double-take. '_Shit!_' I thought, ducking quickly out of sight. Had she seen me? There was no immediate sign, but if she had, Eve would have to explain having a nearly-naked boy in her room in the middle of a school day. I waited with trepidation.

The music cut off suddenly and Odette's voice came from the next room. "Evie? Are you home already?"

'_Don't come in, don't come in, don't come in,_' I thought.

"Eve, I'm coming in!", Odette said.

As the door creaked open, panic set in. I lunged for the bathroom door and barged inside, hoping I got it closed before Odette entered the bedroom. The bathroom door closing alerted Eve. She was leaning over the bathtub in her bra and panties, having washed her hair and face in the bathtub- the sink was hooked up to the washing machine- and was drying off with a bath towel. As soon as she noticed me, she clutched to towel to herself, holding it over her chest with one hand and her privates with another. Fortunately she noticed the shushing finger over my lips and the half-panicked expression on my face and swallowed the scream in her mouth. "Eve?" Odette called from the bedroom. "Is that you in the bathroom?"

Eve must not have heard her earlier, but she did now. "Yeah, it's me. Don't come in!"

"What are you doing home at this hour?", Odette asked with concern.

"There was some drama at school. I had to come home," Eve said.

"What kind of drama?" Odette gasped. "Oh my god, did you get beaten up?!"

"No, nothing that bad. Just… I'll tell you all about it later, alright?"

The deflection seemed to make Odette suspicious. "Eve, you know I'm going to have to tell Grace. Just be honest with me."

"I'll be fine. I'll talk to her. Just leave me be, Odette."

A pause. "Okay.", Odette said. For a second I breathed a sigh of relief. The relief ended when Odette continued, "Just let me have a look at you and make sure..."

"NO!", Eve said. "Don't come in, I'm… I'm about to… get in the shower!"

She gestured to me to get out of the way, squeezed past me and turned on the shower. As she bent down to reach the tap, my eyes were instinctively drawn to her rear. With legs pressed tight together, it rose up in the shape of a heart. I knew she agonized over her butt being flat, but I wouldn't describe it as such. "Tight" might be a better word. Tight wasn't so bad…

I shook my head to clear it, lucky that Eve hadn't noticed me leering. Or my own tight underpants.

"I won't keep you long," Odette continued, "I just need to check..."

"ODETTE!", Eve screamed. "I'm not decent!"

"Oh, Eve, you don't have anything I haven't seen before..."

The doorknob turned. Eve wheeled on me, grabbed my arm, and nodded to the shower, whispering "Go! Go!" I half-jumped, half-was-shoved into the tub, counting myself lucky I didn't trip and faceplant into the shower wall. And even luckier that I avoided screaming on learning that it was the hot water Eve had turned on and the shower head was spewing boiling lava. I hissed in pain and quickly pressed myself against the back wall of the shower, dodging the worst of the spray. Eve threw the shower curtain closed just as the door swung open.

"Come on, sweetie, you can trust me...", Odette said, oddly maternal.

I heard Eve sigh and the sound of cloth rustling. "Here, see? No bruises or anything."

"Okay...", Odette said. "So then… what did happen?"

"Nothing big, just… some assholes being..."

"Evie, you don't have to both shower and wash your clothes for 'nothing big'… They slimed you, didn't they?"

"It was nothing." A pause. "Odie, don't..."

"Your hair is wet," Odette said. "but you haven't been in the shower yet. Was it…?", she trailed off.

"Beer," Eve answered. "Loaded up a super soaker with it and sprayed me down."

"Beer?! Why?"

"I don't know, it was something new and original! Anyway, I had to get home before anybody smelled it and dragged me to the principal for drinking."

"_Were_ you drinking?", Odette pressed.

"I wasn't!", Eve protested.

"Because if you were, you should admit to it. Grace used to booze on the DL too, but on school-"

"I wasn't drinking! I swear!", Eve pleaded.

Odette sighed. "Alright, honey. I believe you. We still have to tell Grace, but I'll vouch for you."

It was good to know that Odette had Eve's back, but I really wished she would wrap it up and get out soon. Boiling-hot water was currently backing up in the tub and soaking into my socks, cooking the soles of my feet. Not to mention the steam was making me sweat.

"But dear God, who would waste good beer like that?", Odette continued. "It's like, sacrilege!"

"Well, I doubt it was what you'd call 'good' beer, these guys were more the 'big bottles of cheap piss'-type drinkers. Look, can I just shower, please?"

"Okay, honey. When you're done, come inside and we can talk about it over lunch."

"Thanks, Odette."

A pause. "Oh, come here and give Aunt Odie a hug."

"Odie, I, ughhh..." Eve voice was muffled, and I had a sudden notion of her head being pressed between Odette's breasts. Her big, firm, soft, pillowy, probably-very-cuddly… I deliberately threw my head back to bonk it on the wall. '_Down, boy!_', I thought.

"Thank you, Aunt Odie," Eve said with a little sarcasm. "I'll be out quick."

"Take as much time as you need," Odette said.

I waited. Heard the sound of footsteps and a door closing. Then Eve threw open the curtain, holding a bath towel in place around herself, covering her body from the chest down. "Come on, we're clear."

I ran past the fire-breathing showerhead and hopped out of the tub. Safe on the bathmat, I hurriedly stood on first one foot and then the other to remove my socks.

"Jesus!", I said, hoping I wasn't loud enough to be heard outside. "How high do you have the boiler up? Look at this, my feet are red!"

"I'm sorry! It was the only thing I…," Eve stopped, staring down at my feet.

"What?", I asked. "They're not blistering, are they…?"

Eve lifted her head to look at me, mouth hanging open. "A-Aaron… are you… hard?"

I was. Very much, I realized. "Uhh…!", I stammered, then just smiled lamely, put my hand behind my head and laughed nervously.

Eve's voice rose an octave. "For me?!"

My brain locked up like a web browser trying to open 20 video streams at once. "Uhhhhhhhh…," I said, trying and failing to figure out what, if anything, was the right answer to that question.

A sudden electric beeping made us both jump. The washer was done.

Eve made a circling gesture with her finger. "Turn around."

I obediently faced the closed door. A few moments later, Eve handed my clothes to me. As she had promised, they were damp, but clean. We dressed in awkward silence, with our backs to one another. After I was dressed, I snuck out via the window. We were only on the second floor, and the drop wasn't dangerous if I hung from my fingertips first. I waved to Eve and left.

Back on the main street, I checked my phone. By the time I got back, it would be sixth, if not seventh. And I still hadn't had lunch. I decided Eve had the right idea; I'd blow off the rest of the day and kill time at some hangouts until evening. Hopefully without anyone noticing that I still had a raging boner. What the hell was I going to do about that?

Her mouth covered mine, and our tongues danced like rutting snakes. The moans in her throat were music to my ears, and I devoured her lustful cries like ambrosia. Her body was heavy atop mine, but soft, and softest of all were the two plump mounds that rubbed against my chest as she ground her underpants against mine. I ran my hands all over her body- ass, hips, waist, back, everywhere was curved and voluptuous. Breaking the kiss, she threw herself back, her long black hair tracing an ecstatic curve through the air, until she was upright. She straddled me, looking down with a smile that was almost predatory. Odette was truly as wild as her reputation implied.

"You like this, loverboy?" she asked. "You like it when I ride your rod?" She ground her hips back and forth, stroking her cloth-clad vulva over my exposed dick. "Oh, wow," she continued. "You are a big one, anybody ever tell you that? I'm big too, aren't I?" She cupped her tits and jiggled them like that clip I'd seen on that pornsite that one time. After a giggle, she went on. "You want to touch them, don't you? Squeeze them?"

Without waiting, my hands grabbed Odette's tits and squeezed. She squealed. "Oh, god, so rough! Keep going, baby, I don't mind at all." I squeezed harder. My breath was coming rapidly, the excitement growing as my pulse quickened. The woman mmmed and ahhhed along with my maulings. "Pinch them," she said. I pinched the nipples, and she yelped from the pain. "Harder," she said. I did so. And again. And again. Then my hands covered them again, tits so small they barely more than filled my palms, but the small ones were so sensitive. She grabbed my hands and shoved them down on the mattress, looming over me, ocean-blue locks hanging messily about her face, a whiff of floral scent in the air. Her eyes, blue like a pure spring, pierced me like spears. Eve…

"You want me, don't you?", she asked. "Nobody else but me. Even the hottest, sexiest, most wanton woman won't do." She lunged down and kissed me, sucking my lips so hard she must have been trying to draw my soul from my body. "I want you too, Aaron. Oh, god, how I want you. How could you ever think different? Feel it, I'm dripping for you!" Her bare crease rubbed against my hard rod, drenching it in wetness. My hands were all over her body, slim and tight, but still with a pleasing feminine softness. She pushed herself to an upright position, still holding my hands in hers. "Oh God, Aaron, I want you inside me! I want you so much! You want it? Do you? Then go ahead, lover. Go ahead and take it. It's all yours. Nobody else's. Give it to me."

Slowly, it slipped inside. The feeling was hot and wet and indescribable. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…," She moaned, voice shaking, eyes closed, mouth wide. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! You're so big, Aaron! Go on, give it to me!" Leaning over me with a smile, she slid up and down, her silken lips caressing my turgid flesh with each movement. My heart was pounding, and her moans were lewd and breathy. Up and down, up and down, each one taking us higher, making her cries louder and hotter. "Say you want me, Aaron. Say you want me. Say it!"

I did want her. More than anything. Her up and down came faster and harder, hips bouncing against mine again and again. "Say you want me! Say you want me forever! Say you can't live without me. I'm so close, lover, please, I want to hear it."

I grimaced. I could barely keep control. "Do you want me, Aaron? Do you want me? Answer me, lover, just one word, that's all it will take." She was breathing heavy as I was. Hot and heavy, she could barely squeeze out words between the gasps. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!", she said, each repetition pitched higher. "Do you? Do you want me? _DO YOU WANT ME?!_"

Teeth gritting, I squeezed the word out like a hiss. "Yeeeeeeeesss!"

We came as one. She threw her head back and screamed, and my eyes clenched shut until I saw white. The explosive ecstasy of release surged through me, reverberating from the base of my dick in shuddering ripples throughout my entire body.

And then… relaxed.

I took a moment to catch my breath, then I sat up, throwing the heavy blankets off my body to find myself again in my room. The woman who existed only in my lustful imaginings had vanished. Washed away like a dream by the morning sun. I always felt indefinably guilty after these sessions, even when I wasn't imagining someone I knew. I took a sharp breath in and out, to cleanse the feeling from my mind. The handkerchief clutched around my penis had caught most of the physical detritus. I wiped off as much of the remainder as I could before shoving my deflating erection back into my pants.

Diane would be calling me for dinner soon, so I set right to the clean-up. I wadded up the handkerchief so that the wetness was on the inside, then threw it in my laundry basket, shifting some of the clothes around to conceal it. Then I went to the bathroom, flushed the toilet for an excuse, and washed my hands. Back in my room, I sprayed some Febreze around and fixed the bedsheets. All the evidence was now concealed except for the flush on my cheeks, which would go away shortly.

I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, letting my mind wander. I wondered what Eve would have done if she had seen the thoughts in my head just now. Would she be terrified? Flattered? Disgusted? Excited? Intimidated? Would she swoon, or slap me right across the face?

My desk sat right next to the bed. Impulsively, I grabbed my phone from atop it. I typed out a text to Eve: "I want to be more than just friends." I didn't send it immediately, but read it over. Then I backspaced over the last part and re-wrote it: "I want to be your boyfriend." Again I read it over, backspaced and re-wrote: "I want to be your lover." Finally, I backspaced over the entire message and tossed my phone down on the bed next to me. Eve had made her decision, whether I liked it or not, and that decision was "I want to be friends."

"I want to just be friends."

"It's not you, it's me."

"It's better this way."

People say these things in an attempt to make it not hurt. It never works. Eve had made her choice, and I had to respect that, but a relationship isn't a toy that you can just put away when you don't want it anymore, or replace when it breaks. It's like a business, into which you invest time and emotion. And if that business fails, you don't get your investment back. It's gone, and you're left poorer for the loss. No matter what Eve felt, my feelings for her were more than friendly. The physical urges were easy enough to handle, but it went deeper than that. The time I spent with her was the best part of my day. Seeing her smile made me feel happy. I was at ease with her, like we could talk about anything, shallow or deep, and not be judged. And when she was hurt, I felt the hurt too.

Was I in love with Eve?

It seemed absurd. We had been dating for only… well, we hadn't. Saturday was our first, if it counted. Unless the previous Monday by the fountain counted. But then again, we'd known each other much longer than that, even if it had been a low-key thing. How long does it take to fall in love, anyway? Hell, what even is love to begin with? I'd never been in love before, so I had no standard for comparison.

I beat my head against the pillow in frustration. This navel-gazing accomplished nothing. Besides, the decision had been made. Much as I wanted to explore my feelings for Eve- and hers for me- she wasn't comfortable with it. So that was that. Nothing to be done. I had to move on from it, same as any other failed relationship. Bury the past.

Bury the past.

It seems so easy. Anything does, when you summarize it as a three-word phrase. But when you have to decompress that phrase into a plan of action, it becomes complex and difficult. As appealing an idea as burying the past may be when the past is hurtful, it's not so easy when it's fond memories you have to bury.

If Eve wanted to be just friends, I would try. But I couldn't deny that my feelings for Eve had already gone beyond friendship. And unlike simple lusts, there was no magic lever that would turn these feelings off.


	7. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

I'M WHAT'S LEFT, I'M WHAT'S RIGHT

Tuesday afternoon, right before dismissal, I got a text from Eve to come to her locker. When I got there, I found her leaning up against her locker, grinning from ear to ear. Crowds of students moved here and there through the halls, most heading home, some delaying to speak with friends. "What's up?", I asked.

She tapped the locker next to her. "Lean back against the locker, like me."

I did so. "Okay, um… why?"

"So that none of them," she nodded towards the crowds, "will be able to look over your shoulder to see these."

She passed me her phone. On it was a picture of Roxy, Missy, and Becca in the locker room wearing nothing but bath towels. They had green streaks in their hair and shocked expressions. I swiped through several pictures, watching them get increasingly more agitated. That last pic showed them rushing at the camera in a rage.

"What the hell happened?", I asked.

Eve broke down in giggles. "What happened is that they finally lived to regret all the shit they've given me."

I raised an eyebrow. "You did this?"

Eve nodded with a wicked look on her face.

"How?"

"Roxy's locker..." she pointed down the hall. "-is right over there. When her shower kit needs restocking, she keeps the new stuff in there before gym- probably so it doesn't leak all over her schoolbooks or something. I've seen what shampoo she uses, so last night I got the same brand and some hair dye from the drugstore, and pulled the old switcheroo! I didn't know she would share the bottle with her jerk friends, though. That was a bonus!"

"Wow," I said. "Congrats on getting even!"

Eve smiled as I handed her phone back.

"How'd you get inside her locker, though?", I asked.

She put a finger to her lips. "Trade secret. So what do you think? You like it?"

I smiled. "Well, I can't say she doesn't deserve it for being such an ass to you. She must have been furious, though."

"Totally!", Eve said triumphantly. "She chased me right out of the locker room, but I got away because she couldn't leave wearing just a towel!"

"I wish she would have tried! Can you imagine, Roxy in nothing but a towel, running full tilt down the hallway, going bouncy, bouncy, bouncy..."

Eve laughed like a maniac, and I joined in, heedless of the looks we were getting from our fellow students. After a few moments, my laughing stopped as I suddenly realized something.

"Wait...", I said. "You said Roxy's locker was right over there?"

Eve nodded.

"Shit," I said. "We'd better get moving, she'll be stopping by before going home, and if she sees you, she'll..."

As if on cue, I saw a bouncing blur of bright pink spheres and blond-and-green waves moving fast through my peripheral vision. Before I could even warn Eve, Roxy yanked her away from me. "What the…?", Eve exclaimed.

"Give me that, you little cunt-stain!", Roxy bellowed in a fury. She grappled Eve and tried to wrest the phone out of her hand.

"Fuck you!" Eve retorted, struggling to free herself from the human Barbie's kung-fu grip.

From behind, I grabbed Roxy by the shoulders and tried to pull her off Eve. "Whoa, whoa, settle dow..."

Roxy whipped one arm around and backhanded me. The blow was strong enough to knock me back and sting my cheek. I staggered on my feet. Roxy was surprisingly strong when enraged. "Stay out of this, emo boy!", she roared like a lioness.

Eve managed to free the hand holding her phone. "Aaron, go long!" She tossed the phone to me. Her aim was horrible. I had to dive to catch it, but catch it I did. Eve managed to worm out of Roxy's grip and shove her into the lockers. Eve then turned and bolted down the hallway.

Steadying herself against the lockers, Roxy pointed a finger and a fiery look at me. "Get him!" she shouted.

Almost too late, I noticed Roxy's friends were here too. Becca charged me. I nimbly dodged her attempted tackle, weaved around Missy- who was standing around helplessly- and took off after Eve. The girls gave chase, but Roxy was running in heels, which slowed them. Moreso when one of those heels snapped and Roxy faceplanted onto the floor. I caught up to Eve at the corner of the hall. She watched, cackling, as Roxy's friends helped her to her feet. "Good thing those cushions broke your fall, bitch!" Eve taunted.

"Not a bitch," I corrected. "And don't stop!" I grabbed Eve by the hand and dragged her along behind me. A quick look back before rounding the corner and I saw Roxy kicking off her heels to continue pursuit.

We ran through the crowded hallway, Eve and I, at full speed. Nimbly we dodged around and past students we didn't know as the air rushed past our ears. Instinct and agility- boosted by adrenaline- meant we avoided knocking anyone over. Despite the circumstances, there was something joyous and liberating about running hand and hand with Eve through the school halls, ducking and weaving all the way. Eve laughed giddily, as we drove on at exhilarating speed.

At the T-junction at the hall's end we turned left, and skidded to an abrupt stop. Ahead of us, we noted a familiar blood-burgundy sweater vest and brown ponytail. Before being noticed, we turned 180 degrees and started walking fast- not running- away from Annie. Roxy had not given up the chase, but (Fucking) Annie catching us was potentially worse. I stowed Eve's phone in my inner jacket pocket- if Annie caught us and saw what was on it, we would be in very big trouble.

Roxy was not so cautious and tore around the corner, colliding with someone and sending him and his books flying clear across the hall. "Hey!", Annie's voice rang out. Hoping that she was focused on Roxy, we took off again. We kept well ahead of Roxy- her friends had either given up or decided not to risk Annie's wrath- but we couldn't do this forever. At the next corner we took a right into a less-trafficked area of the school. The hallway was empty. Looking around for a hiding place, I spotted Coach Bridgette's office. I tried the knob and got lucky.

"In here!", I said, dragging Eve into the office before shutting the door.

The room was cramped, windowless, and closet-sized, with a big desk in the center and shelves of athletic memorabilia behind. A clear glass pane in the door allowed someone outside to see almost the entire room. But there was a blind spot where you could hide. "Here, here!" I dragged Eve to the corner and pushed her back against the wall, squeezing in very close in front of her. "Whoa!", Eve said. "Uh, Aaron, personal space..."

I shushed her. "Keep quiet! I need to stay close so that she can't see us."

Eve clammed up. We caught our breath. Our hearts were beating fast from the run. I looked at Eve and she was almost sweating. My hands were on her shoulders. I could feel her breath on her mouth. My eyes met hers and they were sparkling. Her mouth hung open, and her chest rose and fell in small heaves. Breath passed back and forth between us.

I very much wanted to kiss her right then. She looked like she'd very much like to be kissed. But before I had the chance to find out, she turned away from me, flushed. I turned my eyes to the wall above her and abandoned the idea.

From outside we heard the steps of bare feet, rounding the corner and coming to a stop. I imagined Roxy looking around, wondering where we had gone. A second later, there was the sound of someone being tackled to the ground. Roxy groaned in pain. "J.V. track," we heard Annie's voice say. "Would be varsity now if I hadn't become hall monitor instead. Running in the halls is a serious infraction, miss!"

"So is what that little bitch..." Roxy protested.

"… as is profanity," Annie added smugly. "And I see nobody else in this hallway. Just someone who wants to recklessly endanger both herself and her fellow students. Not to mention, that hair is a bold violation of the new school dress..."

"Oh, fuck you, shrimp!" Roxy growled. "Let me tell you…"

Whatever Roxy had to say about us, it was too late. Insulting Annie's height immediately made her the highest-priority offender there was. "Do NOT address me like that!", Annie yelled. "You have just earned yourself DE-TEN-TION! You will come with me, NOW!"

"Fuck you!", Roxy spat.

"Would you like me to call our official security personal, young lady?"

"No, fuck you! You enforce the rules you want to, when you want to, all depending on..."

"ENOUGH!" Annie said it loudly and forcefully enough that Roxy actually shut up. "Detention, NOW! You can follow me, or you can be _escorted_ by Mister Jackson."

Mister Jackson was one of the school security staff. Big, broad, bald, and able to keep troublemakers in line simply by crossing his arms and glowering. I don't think he was a fan of being Annie's muscle, but it was a living.

Apparently, the prospect intimidated Roxy enough that she opted for the high road. "Fine, but once we get there I'm going to have something to say about that little thug Eve."

"I'm sure it will be very illuminating," Annie said. "Detention! Move!"

We heard the sounds of clomping footsteps outside.

"And no goose-stepping!", Annie said. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

After a few seconds, the footsteps faded down the hallway and we relaxed. "They gone?", Eve asked.

"Sounds like it", I replied. I peaked out the window. Nobody there. "Looks like it too. Come on," I said. "Let's get out of here before something else happens."

A minute or so later, we were on the sidewalk, heading home. We would ultimately take different paths, but for a few blocks we could walk together.

"How did you know that door would be open?", Eve asked.

"Didn't," I replied. "Not for sure, anyway. But Coach Bridgette often forgets to lock it, so I rolled the dice. Friend of mine from the Frisbee club had to hide from a beatdown in there once."

"Frisbee Club?", Eve asked.

"Bunch of guys I knew who liked to play Frisbee in the schoolyard during lunch. We did our fair share of troublemaking. That particular incident involves a dead chipmunk and a cheerleader's backpack. And her six-foot-five boyfriend. Long story." Now that the adrenaline wore off, my cheek had started to sting from Roxy's slap. "How's my face look?" I asked.

Eve took a close look. "Kinda red. Not bleeding or anything, but you might want to put some ice on it when you get home. Does it hurt?"

I shook my head. "I'll be fine."

Eve grimaced. "I'm sorry, Aaron. If I had thought to meet you outside school instead..."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Forget it, no big deal."

Eve dropped her gaze to the sidewalk. "Yeah, well… anyway, thanks for your help, Aaron. You really are the best."

"If you want to thank me, delete those pics." I took her phone from my pocket and handed it back to her. "Taking pictures in the locker room is a big, big deal."

"Step ahead of you. I'll do it as soon as I get home. And thanks for helping me get back at Roxy in the first place."

I blinked. "Uh… what help? I didn't do anything."

Eve smiled. "You gave me the idea. Yesterday, all that talk about how we should get back at the school, how I can be as badass as I want to. It got me thinking. And the result is something I'm calling 'Project Last Laugh.'"

I gave her an uncertain look. "Ominous," I said.

Eve went on. "Yesterday, I spent the afternoon making a list of people who have made my life a living hell over the past year, and that hair dye today was the first step of my master plan. We don't have much high school left, and in the time we do have, I'm going to get my revenge. By graduation, I'm going to make them all pay!" She grinned evilly.

"Uhh…," I said. "Maybe dial it back a few notches, Eve. Revenge list, making them pay, you're starting..." I looked over my shoulder to see if anybody was around to hear. "You're starting to sound like a school shooter or something," I said in a low tone of voice.

Eve frowned and waved the notion off. "It's nothing like that, Aaron. I just need to prove to that I can stand up for myself."

"Well, standing up for yourself is one thing, but have you ever thought of what might happen if somebody decides to get even with your getting even? Or several people? You could wind up getting in more trouble than..."

Eve groaned. "Don't be a buzzkill, Aaron."

"I'm not trying to buzzkill, I just think you should calm down a bit and..."

Eve whirled to face me and interrupted. "Do you want even with Tyrone?"

The question threw me. "What?"

"Tyrone and his lackeys are second on the list. I've got a plan, but I need help. Do you want to get even with him?"

I thought: harassing Eve, humiliating me in a rap battle, hosing us both down with cheap beer. I really shouldn't. It was a really bad idea. But…

"Yeah, I want to get even with Tyrone," I admitted.

Eve smiled brightly. "Awesome! So, here's what I need from you..."

I showed up at the fountain in the park Wednesday at sunset, as promised. It was much the same as last time. Sky darkening quickly. Eve sitting against the fountain, sketching. Tyrone and company around the other end, blasting the bass. The fountain waters crashing quietly on between them. Eve smiled and waved when she saw me, then stowed her drawing supplies in her backpack as I approached. I sat down next to her to conspire.

"Good to see you didn't chicken out," Eve teased.

I nervously checked over my shoulder. "Give me a few seconds and I might. The more I think about this idea, the less I like it."

"What are you afraid of?," Eve chastised. "We're not doing anything illegal."

"That doesn't mean things can't go wrong! Worst case scenario, Tyrone catches us and we have to hope we can run fast enough to escape a beatdown."

"Don't worry, If it comes to that, I know I can count on you to sacrifice yourself so I can get away," she said with a grin.

I didn't grin back. "Very reassuring. Let's just do this, alright? The sooner it gets done, the sooner we can go home and cross those three off of your revenge list. Where'd they leave their bags?"

Eve pointed one way around the fountain. "That way. You clear on the plan?"

I pointed in the opposite direction. "I go around that way, draw their attention, keep them occupied. You sneak around the other way, drop the payload in their bags, then make for the trees before they notice you. We meet up at the first bench on the north path after the deed is done. You got this mysterious 'payload', I assume?"

Eve opened up the front pocket of her backpack, revealing a cardboard box filled with glass vials. "Stink bombs!", she said, grinning ear to ear. "Got them from the dollar store in the poor neighborhood yesterday."

"Seriously?", I said. "What is this, 1950?"

"Hey, no school like the old school! I got pranked by these once in junior high. The smell is worse than skunk, and what's more, it _clings_. To clothes, fabric, skin, pretty much everything. Drop these in their bags, they'll need hazmat suits for the next two days! What about you? You got your distraction ready?"

"Gave myself a crash course last night, thought up and memorized some lines. Doubt I'll win, but I can keep them occupied for long enough. Assuming you don't get caught."

She tapped her hood's ear. "These aren't just for show, I move like a cat when I want to. So, we ready?"

I took a deep breath to steady myself. "As I'll ever be." Not like that was saying much. Still, if I wasn't here, Eve would probably try to do it alone, which had a much bigger chance of blowing up in her face. That alone made it worthy endeavor. If maybe not a terribly smart one. "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," Eve said.

I hesitated. "Can I get a kiss if I make it back alive?"

Eve laughed and shoved me forward. "Go, you cowardly lion, you!"

Having both read the book and seen the movie, I knew calling someone a cowardly lion isn't exactly an insult. I wondered if Eve saw it that way, but no time for that: Project Last Laugh was a go.

I made my leisurely around the fountain, using my best swagger and pulling my hood up to add to the intimidation factor. Chico saw me approach and nudged Tyrone. He and Chad followed Chico's gaze and saw me. I kept my eyes on them while walking, and they kept their eyes on me, and away from their bags. I walked to a position where they were directly between me and the bags, so that looking at me meant looking directly away from their bags. I gave them my best challenging glare.

It was Tyrone who spoke first. "What up, homes?", he said grimly. He obviously suspected trouble, but had no idea what kind.

"I'm here for a rematch," I said.

Tyrone sat up straight and considered me. "Rematch?"

"I want another rap battle. Same stakes as before- win and you have to leave Eve alone, lose and you can do whatever you want."

Tyrone laughed. "Easy when you wagering nothing, ain't it, white boy? Your girl don't come 'round here no more."

"Actually," Chad said, "she's right over there, man..."

Tyrone waved a hand to shut Chad up.

"Maybe she wants to start again," I said. "Maybe she wants to clear you out first."

Tyrone shook his head. "Mmmm, don't think so, kid. If she put you up to this, why she ain't standing by your side now? More like you knew she'd be coming tonight and decided to come around to pick a fight and impress her?"

I gave him a condescending smirk. "You trying to chicken out, Tyrone?"

All three of them laughed. "Man, you must be a sucker for pain," Chad said. "We already schooled you once, how's it gonna be any different this time?"

"I wasn't ready last time. Now I am," I boasted.

Chad scoffed and turned away laughing, "Do you two hear this crazy little shit?"

"Nah, nah, hold on a minute," Tyrone cut in with a grin. "I think I wanna see this. White boy thinks he's got his hands on some skills somewhere, let's see him prove it. Might be worth a laugh."

Chad clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Man, I don't need to waste my time and talent on this little pussy! He wants to feel big, he can go find a girl who'll spread 'em for five."

"Like who, your sister?", I said.

Chad glared at me. "Bitch, I ain't got no sister!"

"How do you know? From what I hear, you might have seven, your Mom's such a whore," I smiled.

Chico and Tyrone both laughed, but Chad most definitely did not.

"Oh, shit!" Tyrone said. "Chad got burned! Maybe white boy _has_ picked up a thing or two."

Chad's fists clenched. "Yeah, he'll pick up a fat lip, too, if he keeps it up."

"Settle down Chad," Tyrone said. "you think he needs a lesson, you teach it on the mic. White boy wants a rematch, I say we give it to him." As before, Tyrone went over to the bags and fished out two portable mics. "Same rules as before; three rounds, we go first, best of three wins. You game, white boy?"

"I'm game."

"Coo'," Tyrone lobbed one mic to me, and the other to Chico. "Chico, you up first."

"Like hell!", Chad said. "Gimme the mic, Chcio, you had your turn last time, I want a piece of this little shit."

After a moment's consideration, Chico handed it over. "Yeah, alright, I'll wait my turn. Just be sure to leave some for me."

"Heh. No guarantees, man, I'm gonna thrash this little pussy like a woman's."

Tyrone threw a disapproving look- which Chad missed- before starting the music. A hard beat started up and Chad laid down his verse:

"_You step to me, boy? Huh, you wanna go?_

_Well bend over, 'cuz I'll spank you like a ho!_

_You think yo tough, well I bench two-eight-oh,_

_Just a touch, you'll be on the ground, yellin' 'Sir, no!'_

_You'll beg for mercy 'fore we start the fight,_

_But send Little Blue around, and I can do her right._

_The whole town knows you think she's hella tight,_

_Let me loosen her up- we'll go for three whole nights."_

Chad threw down the mic and stepped to me, arms wide like he wanted to fight for real. Honestly, I might have liked to fight too. I could care less what he said about me, but Chad was no fool- he knew disrespecting Eve would push my buttons. But I kept cool, reminding myself that it didn't matter what was said- I was just the diversion. Eve's revenge- and my own- relied on me staying in the game.

In any case, the chance of escalation faded quickly after Tyrone spoke up. "Wooooo-eee! That's some nuclear-strength burn there, Chad." He passed Chad a joint.

"That's how I roll, especially with losers like this," Chad said sneeringly. He took a hit and then passed the joint back to Tyrone.

While they were occupied, I risked a quick look at their bags. Eve had snuck up and was rummaging through them, finding places to plant the stink bombs. From where she was, they couldn't see her unless they turned to look at the bags directly. I had to keep their attention.

"Hey! My turn," I called.

Tyrone laughed. "Well, someone's raring. Okay, white boy, let's see if you've improved like you say."

He put on a beat and I raised the mic to my lips. I didn't have to win, but I did have to do well enough to keep eyes on me. Luckily I had a few good lines prepared, and Chad had been predictable. I got the tempo and laid my first verse:

"_Chad, Chad, boy so fake. Ditch the joint, you're already baked!_

_Talkin' I'm weak, talking your muscles,_

_When everybody know that you all hustle._

_Don't know one boy that'll say you beat him,_

_Don't know one girl who'll say she'd eat 'em_

_Gel hair, wife-beater, tribal tat._

_School laughs at me? Nah, behind your back._

_Chad, Chad, not so dope. Take a hint, your game's all trope."_

Chad's sneer had deepened at my insults. Tyrone, on the other hand, looked impressed. "Huh," he said, "I do believe that was halfway decent. What you think, Chico?"

Chico made an uncertain gesture. "Eh, not as bad as last time, but still not at a real G's level."

"Yeah, it's close, but I'm gonna give round one to Chad," Tyrone said.

"Close, my ass!", Chad said. "This little shit got nothing..."

Tyrone laughed and took Chad by the shoulders. "Easy, Chad, easy, you won. No need to start swinging when you've already killed it. Let's go on to round two. Chico, you're up."

Chico nodded and picked up the mic from where Chad had thrown it down. He took a second to brush it off. Tyrone went to the stereo and cued up the next track. "Give him your best, man, no holding back this time."

After taking a minute to get the tempo, Chico took his shot:

"_Here we go again, whitey back for more,_

_Thinkin' he's the man for callin' Chad's mom a whore._

_Just who you think you are, comin' round our park,_

_with yo' emo-ass clothes, stolen lines, and farts,_

_You made us die laughing, we was pissin' and cryin',_

_We were almost in tears, on the mic you was dyin'._

_Go home lil' wussy, ain't no place for you,_

_B__et you'd find bigger balls on Little Blue._"

Chico rolled to a stop and made a pose. Tyrone and Chad both nodded. "Not bad, Chico," Tyrone said. "You getting up there."

"All thanks to your tutelage, master," Chico said, saluting Tyrone with a fist-in-palm gesture.

Tyrone snickered and turned to me. "Okay, kid. you're up next."

Again Tyrone put on a beat, and again I took my shot:

"_Think you're big now, Chico? Think you're legit?_

_Because all that I'm hearin', is the same old shit._

_Dissing on my skin, tossin' tired old lines-_

_I've heard it all before, those two? A dozen times!_

_Another thing, man, about my style:_

_At least I've got some, you shop the kiddie aisle!_

_Pink gator shirt, it just ain't your color,_

_Who fills your wardrobe? Oh, right. Your mother!"_

I put down the mic. Tyrone nodded. "Not bad, not bad."

Chad was less impressed. "Eh, average. Maybe."

"No, no," Tyrone insisted. "His flow needs work, but white boy was on point. In fact, I think I'm gonna give him that round."

"Whaaaaat?!", Chico said.

Tyrone shrugged. "Sorry, Chico, but he spit truth. Your rhymes _are_ stale. I hear that cryin'/lyin' pair every time you're on the mic."

"Yeah, and the shirt's gay as fuck," Chad added.

Chico sneered. "Man, fuck you both! You know I wasted him! Ty just wants a loss so he can ride to the rescue!"

Tyrone grinned and took a lazy drag on his joint. "Do I, now? Could be."

Behind them Eve had completed her mission and was making for the trees with her backpack. I just had to hold them off a bit longer. I pointed my mic at Tyrone. "Let's go then, Tyrone."

Tyrone laughed, tucking the joint behind his ear. "Cocky little shit all of a sudden. Alright, alright, you faced the students, now lets see how you do against the master."

Tyrone took the mic, fiddled with the stereo a bit, and then took up what I could only describe as a combat stance. He stood still, eyes closed, legs together, arms at his sides, centering himself. It took a moment for the music to start, but when it did, it hit like a train, setting a fast and frantic tempo. My immediate thought was that this was way too fast to rap over, but Tyrone was no amateur; he whipped the mic right up to his mouth, caught the beat from the first note and started going at 120 miles per hour:

"_Hit the deck sucka, you about to be attacked._

_My name is Emcee Gatt, 'cuz I go rat-a-ta-tat-a-ta-tat._

_My rhymes they fly like lightning, my whisper is a shout,_

_You can't compare when my voice it blares, so let me spell it out:_

_First of all, you a cocky shit, and you cannot spit with no grit, you nitwit._

_Hear me spit, like a rabid bitch, dropping rhymes legit, poly-syl-la-ball-ic._

_Second thing, when you go tough-up, you can't back it up, so you act all puffed-up and get fucked up, and run for cover, right back to your mother, 'cuz you got no brothers, 'Cuz they all said fuck ya',_

_Why? Because:_

_Three, you're always walking around, looking down at the town,_

_like yo' shit don't stink, like there ain't nobody good enough for you,_

'_cept maybe Little Blue, I don't know what she see in you._

_I could go for days and days, and you'd be amazed, at how much I can lay down,_

_But I think I'll just leave it at that. Go home, be proud, to get owned_

_by the great Emcee Gatt!"_

And he threw down the mic triumphantly.

Wow.

Tyrone did not mess around. I was shocked he could say so much so fast without getting tongue-tied. And his rhymes were intricate, too. There was no way in heaven or hell that I could top that. It was professional quality. His crew clearly agreed, as they greeted Tyrone's finale by cheering like loons.

"See, white boy?", Chico said. "That's why he's the head of this crew!"

"The great Emcee Gatt, king of the mic!", Chad added.

They looked like they would very much like to have a royal cape or something to hang around Tyrone's shoulders. Tyrone grinned. "So there you have it, kid. Think you can match that?"

It took me a moment to answer. I may have been standing slack-jawed like an idiot.

"No," I said honestly. "But I can go down swinging, if that's what it comes to."

Tyrone laughed and clapped his hands. "Reaching for Valhalla, that it? Alright, show me your best."

Once more the music started up. I needed a second to get my footing and then laid this down:

"_Can I match that? The answer is 'nope'._

_But don't get it twisted, I never had a hope._

_It's like Chico said, this game, it ain't fair._

_With only one judge, and he's standing right there!_

_Who thinks you'd ever hand your crown to me?_

_When every rapper ever thinks he's G-O-A-T, personally._

_The fix is in, but I don't give a shit._

_You want this stinking park then you can have it!"_

I lobbed the mic over to Tyrone, who caught it in mid-air. He smiled bemusedly. "That sounded less like a last stand and more like an admission of defeat to me."

"Bit of sour grapes, too," Chico added.

Tyrone nodded. "Well, I'll give you this, white boy, you gave it a good fight. Still and all..." he shrugged. "A loss is a loss. This park remains our turf, and we do what we want. Now if you don't like it, I suggest you head home, it's past your bedtime anyway."

I thought if I should have a response to that. But in the end, like the last time, I just walked away.

Only this time, as soon as my back was to them, I smiled broadly to myself. I had noticed Eve slipping away behind them as Tyrone had been rapping. They had lost as soon as they let me hold their attention. I headed off in the opposite direction. Once I hit the street, I would loop around the park, cut through the trees, and meet up with her at the rendezvous. If Eve's mission had gone as well as mine, our revenge would be assured.

Behind me, the music started up again and Tyrone and company returned to their bantering. Chico paused to yell across the plaza to me. "And don't come around here sucking on the mic again!"

"Yeah," Chad added. "And tell your girl that if she wants to come around, she'll have to suck on _all_ our mics!"

I froze in my tracks.

I felt my smile melt into a frown, my fist clench into a hard ball, my teeth grind against each other. I looked back, slowly, to see Chad just turning away, laughing to himself. Laughing like he didn't care. Laughing like he really would like to make Eve and I both feel like trash.

Boiling inside, I turned and marched purposefully back to the fountain. I couldn't hear them over the music, but Tyrone was arguing with Chad about something. In fact, Tyrone shoved Chad, and not gently or playfully either. Chico stood to the side, looking nervous. I didn't care what they might be arguing about, but it meant they didn't notice me walking up. Not until I jabbed the stop button on their stereo and the music cut out.

They turned to me. Their faces were confused. Mine was steel and fire.

Then I layed down an epic diss track a capella.

I don't even remember what I said; It was all completely off the cuff. I was in the zone, speaking almost in tongues, driven by a righteous fury that burned with the fire of a thousand suns. What I do remember is the looks on their faces; first alarm, then amazement, then something like awe or terror. It wasn't just Chad, either, I unloaded on all three of them with both barrels, calling them sad, pathetic, fake, and lame. It was raw, almost primal in its' intensity.

It must have taken a minute or two, all told. When it was done, I stood there menacingly, and they just stared at me, stunned.

Then Tyrone broke into a broad grin, laughing and clapping. "See, now _that's_ what I'm talking about! That's LEGIT! Wooo-eee!"

"Man," said Chad, bewildered. "Where did that come from?"

Tyrone turned on him, disappointed. "Where you think it came from, dumbass? You disrespected his girl! And he reacts how any man would: he _steps up_! What you heard just now was pure emotion, heart over head! You can't get any more legit, not in your wildest dreams. Shit, man!"

Tyrone laughed again. He turned away from Chad, and faced me. Looked me right in the eye, in fact. "You know, kid, I don't think I actually got your name..."

"It's Aaron," I said.

"Well, Aaron," Tyrone said, "you still can't match my skills, but I mean it when I say that was legit. So I'm reversing my decision, and declaring you the winner. From now on, the other side of the fountain belongs to you and Eve. We'll stay on this side and try to be good neighbors. I'm sure I can rely on my crew to live up to that agreement, right?"

He looked over his shoulder at Chico and Chad, who both nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"Alright," Tyrone said, "so we all cool, then?"

I nodded in agreement. "Cool."

"Nice," Tyrone said, taking a drag off his joint. "You know, Aaron, in my experience, heart over head usually comes from head over heels. I take back what I said about you and Eve; if that's what you'll do to protect her, she's a lucky woman to have you." He turned to the fountain and shouted over the water. "Hey Blue! Hold on to this guy, he's a real keeper!"

There was no answer.

"Blue, you there?", he asked again. No answer, and he tsked. "Probably got her headphones on again. Yo, Little Blue Riding Hood!" He motioned to his crew, who followed him around the fountain. He probably expected me to follow as well, but instead, I snuck off while their backs were turned, in the direction Eve had left. My movements were fast, but silent. Tyrone and company were still walking around the fountain when I slipped behind the trees, out of their sight. When they realized Eve had gone they would look for me to find that I had also vanished, seemingly into thin air.

Like I was the goddamn Batman.


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

COLLIDE THE SPACES THAT DIVIDE US

The north walking path ran alongside Main Street, bordered by an iron fence on the street side and a serious of concrete posts connected by thick chains on the wood side. The sky had gotten dark while I'd been battling Tyrone, but streetlights nearby illuminated the area. Partway along the path was a sharp curve around an ancient tree, and just past the bend was a wooden bench. As arranged, Eve was waiting for me at the bench. She was carrying her backpack and smiling giddily. "Did you make the drop?," I asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "A few here, a few there, a few quick whacks from the outside to shatter the glass, and away! They are going to smell like they crapped themselves for days! You?"

"Oh, uh… pretty good, it went well." I looked over my shoulder, but nobody was around.

"Something wrong?", Eve asked.

There was. Guilt. I'd earned Tyrone's respect during our battle, and as a result we'd actually come to a peaceful arrangement. Now that arrangement was toast. I'd known going in how this was going to go, but I hadn't expected to feel like I'd betrayed him. But what was done was done. No way to take it back now.

"It's nothing," I said. "Just… wondering if it's going to be worth it."

"Oh, it will be. But, if you're on the fence about that... turns out I picked up an unexpected bonus." She had a wicked grin on her face.

"Bonus?" I asked.

"Check this out." She opened up the front pouch of her backpack and pulled out a plastic storage bag. "Ta-da!", she said.

The bag was filled with a green, leafy substance. I'd never seen it in real life before, but had an idea what it might be. "That's weed?"

Eve nodded. "Tyrone's stash! I found it in his bag. Can you believe it?"

"Shit!", I exclaimed. "How much is that?"

She hefted it. "About a pound or so, I'd say."

"And you stole it?!" I said. I had no idea how much a pound of pot was worth, but I doubted it came cheap.

"It would've just gotten ruined by the bombs, so..." she let the sentence hang there while she grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "Oh!", she said, remembering. "And also, check this out!" She shoved the stash back into her pack, withdrawing instead a huge, bulging joint almost the size of a pen.

"What the hell is that?", I asked.

"This, my fine ignorant friend, is a party. King size joint, enough to get five people high. More, if it's quality on the inside. I can't believe our luck!" She stuck the joint in her mouth and whipped out a lighter from her pocket, twirling it in her fingers dramatically before lighting the joint.

"Whoa, whoa whoa!," I said frantically. "Eve, we..."

She didn't listen. She took a drag off the joint, then leaned back and exhaled. "Oh, yeah, this is some good shit right here!"

"Are you crazy?!", I asked. "We're along main street in full view! If someone sees..."

"Oh my god Aaron, learn to have a little fun! Nobody comes around here this time of night- the shops are closed, or else the owners don't give a fuck. People are home having dinner and watching TV. Who's going to…?"

As if on cue, a feminine voice spoke up from behind Eve. "Eve? Aaron?"

Eve whipped around, hiding the super-joint behind her back. A female silhouette lurked in the shadows. The voice was familiar, but not immediately recognizable. "Who's there?" I asked, stepping to the side to get a good view.

The figure stepped forward into the light from a nearby streetlamp. It was Roxy. Not in her usual attire- she wore jeans, sneakers, and a tee, plus an athletic jacket and a baseball hat. Same attitude, though. "What are you two losers doing out here?!", she asked.

"Nothing," we both said. A bit too fast. Roxy glared.

"We were just… uhh...", I stammered. "Hanging out."

Roxy wasn't buying it. "In the middle of a darkened path where there's nothing to do?", she said suspiciously.

"Well, uh...", I said. "We're…"

"Watching the cars go by," Eve offered.

"Yeah, carspotting!", I said. "It's like trainspotting, only…," A thought occurred. "Hey, wait a minute, what are _you_ doing here, Roxy?"

Roxy shifted from one foot to the other. "Nothing," she said.

My turn to glare at her.

"I'm just taking a walk, okay?!", Roxy whined. "God, you're not my dad! I don't need to explain myself..."

Suddenly, Eve's eyes darted behind me. "Shhhhh!", she said.

Roxy continued. "Don't shush me, freak, I..."

"Roxy! Quiet!", Eve insisted. "You hear that?"

Roxy clammed up. We all listened. For a moment I thought maybe the jumbo joint was hitting her a bit too hard, then I heard it too: voices. Faint, but getting closer. After a few seconds, I could make them out. "Tyrone!", I exclaimed. He and his crew were coming down the path. The big tree blocked our line of sight, but they were definitely moving fast.

"Shit!", Eve exclaimed. "If they find us, we're dead! Quick, uh….," her eyes darted around, looking for a hiding place. "into the bushes!", she said, pointing. I ran to the chain and vaulted it. Eve turned back. "Roxy, come on!", she said.

"What are you…?", Roxy said, confused.

"No time, come on!", Eve threw her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed Roxy by the arm, jumped over the chain and dragged her in to the underbrush.

The three of us stumbled through some flowering bushes. Thankfully they weren't stickerbushes. Roxy tripped and fell to her hands and knees. "Ouch!" she said, before trying to stand up.

"Stay down, stay down!", Eve said. Eve and I crouched behind the bushes beside Roxy, who wasn't happy to be on all fours in the dirt. "What the fuck, you…"

Eve shushed her frantically. "Everybody," she said in a harsh whisper, "stay low, stay quiet. They won't find us so long as they don't know we're here."

"Think they're mad?", I asked, in the same whisper.

"Wouldn't you be?", Eve replied.

"Mad about what?!" Roxy asked in her own low whisper.

"We pranked them. Hard," I told her.

"They've gotta be hugely pissed," Eve clarified.

"If they catch us, we're in for a beatdown," I added.

"So then why am _I_ hiding?!", Roxy asked.

"I don't know!", Eve and I said at once.

We crouched silently in the bushes, listening as the voices got louder. A truly revolting scent- like a bathroom that hadn't been cleaned in years- wafted over from the path.

"… bitches played us!", I heard Tyrone rant. "Come along playing nice, like we friends, then drop some fucking skunk-bottles in our packs! Fucking bullshit!"

"Shit ain't right," Chico agreed.

"We oughtta come down on them!", Chad said, angrily. "Both of them! I'll break that little shit into pieces, and Little Blue too!"

"You fucking crazy, shithead?!", Tyrone said. "You moved up from weed to crack rock?"

"Man, they deserve it!", Chad said. "You wanna tell me they don't?"

"Deserve or no, you _never_ come down on a girl!", Tyrone shot back. "That shit ain't right!"

"Yeah," Chico agreed, "we just have to come down on emo kid _twice_ as hard."

Tyrone was quiet a moment, perhaps considering. Hidden in the bushes, Eve and I exchanged a worried look.

"Nah," Tyrone said.

"We just let them get away with it?!", Chad screamed.

"Violence just gonna make things worse," Tyrone said. "We send a beating his way, he send a copper ours. Ain't worth it."

"Man, why you always gotta pussy out when shit gets real?", Chad said.

"Why you always gotta be escalating, dumbshit?!," Tyrone shot back. "Every time we get up to something, you gotta take it too far! This is _my_ crew, not yours! We move when and how _I_ say we do! You don't like it, there's the door!"

"Well, what about our stash?!," Chad protested. "If one drop of that shit got into the bag, it's all ruined!"

"The bag is sealed tight, fool!" Tyrone rebutted. "Besides, what's 'ours'? I know the guy, I bought it, I paid for it, you just hang around and mooch! All you've ever contributed is getting us kicked out of…"

Chico shushed frantically. "Ty! Chad! We can't be talking out in the open! Cops around!"

Silence before Tyrone spoke. "Yeah, you're right, Chico. Let's get home and wash this stink off. We can talk about getting even later."

I heard footsteps, and the voices started receding into the distance.

"If the stash is ruined...", Chad said.

"We talk about that when it happens," Tyrone answered.

"We can't let them get away with it!", Chad said.

"Whatever, man….", Tyrone replied tiredly.

More footsteps, eventually receding into silence. We all breathed sighs of relief.

"I don't think they saw us," I said.

"Safe," Eve said, relieved.

"For now at least," I noted. We all got to our feet. My knees were aching from crouching.

"Oh my god, did you smell that?" Roxy said. "Ugh, it's like they shit their pants or something!"

"Stink bombs," I clarified. "That was our prank."

"What?!" Roxy asked. "Oh my god, that's so junior-high, you… you..." she was trying to avoid smiling. She failed. "Well… actually it is still kinda awesome. Was it your idea, Aaron?"

"Nah, it was all Eve. I was just the diversion," I answered.

"Oh," Roxy frowned. "Well, fine! I suppose I can give you some grudging admiration for that, freak."

"Oh, Roxy, you're so sweet..." Eve said sarcastically.

"Hey, if it were my friends, you'd be getting clobbered right now, but Tyrone's gang are no friends of mine! Every time I come around, they're catcalling and whooping and asking to see..." Roxy pulled up short, realizing what she had said.

"Oh, so you come around here often, then?" Eve said knowingly.

"Yeah, what for?", I asked. "You never said."

Roxy crossed her arms and dodged my gaze. "Ugh, I told you, I'm just out for a walk."

"Oh, that's too bad...", Eve said, putting the jumbo joint to her lips. "And here I thought I was gonna be able to share this. Now I'll have to smoke it allllll up alllllll by myself..."

Roxy's jaw dropped. I buried my face in my hands. Now Roxy had dirt on us. I had no idea how marijuana worked, other than that it made you temporarily stupid. Better get Eve home before things went sideways. "Eve, maybe we'd better get go..."

"Holy shit!", Roxy exclaimed. "Where'd you get that?!"

"Around," Eve said. She took a hit and blew the smoke out. "Ohhh, yeah, this is good shit, Roxy, you oughta try it..."

I took Eve's hand. "Come on, let's go..."

Eve shook loose from my grasp. "Aaron, stop being a buzzkill. Look, Roxy, have some. Serious." She held the joint out to Roxy.

Roxy blinked disbelievingly. "Uh… we're not friends, Eve."

"No, but pot is everyone's friend, and friends of friends get along around friends of friends... of friends? … Of..." Eve looked confused for a bit, then shook her head. "Look, it's too much for me to smoke by my lonesome, and Aaron's no help, so come on, we can be civil for as long as it takes to smoke it all up."

I leaned in to whisper. "Eve, I don't think she's interested. Let's get going before she decides to..."

Before I could finish, Roxy snatched the joint and took a drag.

Roxy exhaled. "We're still not friends, alright Eve? But just this once, we can..." She blinked. "Oh, wow, this is good shit!"

"Hits you fast, doesn't it," Eve noted.

"Wooo, yeah." Roxy answered. She giggled. "Shit, I'm getting lightheaded," she handed the joint back to Eve.

I stared in disbelief. "Uh... what?"

Eve giggled. "Come on, Aaron, why else would she be around at this time of night? She was looking to score."

"Yeah, but I can't find Tucker," Roxy said. "He's never around anymore."

"He's laying low," Eve said. "You know how it is; every once in a while, the cops need to make a show like they're actually doing their job."

"Wait, wait, wait…," I cut in. "Since when does Roxy smoke pot?"

Eve laughed. "Aaron, you're so _innocent_! Where do you think all Tucker's business comes from?"

"From Roxy?", I said, disbelieving.

They both laughed. "This isn't the 80's, Aaron," Roxy said. "There's no shame in smoking pot anymore. It's like jaywalking. It's like our parents used to smoke cigarettes in the school bathroom. Even the cops don't care enough to make a big deal about it.", Roxy said.

"I wouldn't be surprised if half the school has tried it," Eve said.

"I haven't!", I said.

Eve held the big joint out to me. She and Roxy wore identical devilish grins.

"Uh, no," I said, "Not my style."

Eve just kept smiling. She waved the joint back and forth between her fingertips.

"Fuck it," I said. "Gimme."

I took the joint, sucked in a mouthful of smoke and, predictably, coughed it all back up along with a full lungful of perfectly good oxygen. And then some more for good measure. Eve and Roxy giggled up a storm.

"Oh my," Eve said. "Somebody's got virgin lungs."

"Yeah," I said, catching my breath. I handed the joint back to Eve. "You know, for my first time I think I'll just stick with the contact high."

"More for me," Eve said, taking another hit.

So we sat around, among the bushes and trees, watching the stars through the gaps in the canopy. Roxy splayed supine on the grass, I propped myself up against a tree, and Eve propped herself up against me, her body nestled in the crook of my shoulder. Eve and Roxy passed the joint back and forth, until the air was thick with hazy white smoke with tinges of purple (is that's where that song got its name, I thought?). I'd never been high before. It was a strange sensation- hyperaware, yet paradoxically relaxed. Like being wide awake and in a deep sleep at the same time. Like laying half-asleep under a warm blanket, feeling half-controlled dreams run through your head. Like some other vague metaphor involving sleep. We lounged like that for some time- I don't how long, the smoke affects your sense of time. After a while, I became aware that Eve had slipped down almost to the point that her head was in my lap. I idly scratched at her hood's ears, as if she were a real cat.

Roxy stretched out and sighed contentedly. "Man, I am so stoned."

"This is good shit, all right," Eve added.

"Maybe save the rest for next time?" Roxy suggested.

"Might not be a next time," Eve said, taking another drag.

"Maybe you should slow it down a bit, Eve," I suggested. "Can you OD on pot?"

"Not without smoking, like, a warehouse full," Eve answered. "Though usually it's a good idea to stop when you start seeing unicorns and shit. How do my eyes look?", she asked, tilting her head back to look me in the eyes. Her blue irises were a lot brighter than usual- as if they were glowing in the starlight.

"Like… pools of blue water, fresh and clean from a mountain spring, sparkling with fairy magic like a wishing well," I said.

Roxy laughed. Eve reached up to bop me on the nose, like I was an amusingly stupid child. "The whites, silly," she said. "Are they bloodshot?"

I checked again. "Oh, yeah. Really bad, now that I look. Red all over. Is that a bad sign?"

"No, but it does mean we need to divide this more than two ways," Eve said. "Sure you don't want some?"

"I'd rather keep my lungs in my chest, thanks," I said.

"Well, hang on..." Eve took a drag on the joint, then grabbed me by the chin, looked up and gently blew the smoke into my face. I snickered, and she giggled back at me. "Less harsh?"

"A bit, yeah," I replied.

Roxy rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself up on one elbow to look at us. "You know, you two make an adorable couple."

The comment caught us both off-guard. "Oh, we're uh… just friends," I said.

Roxy laughed. "Right, Aaron. Give me another?" Eve passed the joint to Roxy, who took a long drag then flopped or her back again, smoking joint still in her mouth. It stuck straight up and waved back and forth like a reed in the wind.

"Are you tonguing it?" Eve said. "'Cuz I'm gonna want it back in a few."

"I'm not," Roxy said.

"Y'know, I think you are," Eve said. "You just love having things in your mouth, don't you?"

"Oh, don't get pervy with me," Roxy retorted.

"I think she meant your lollipops," I offered.

"I like those because they're sweet," Roxy said.

"I've tasted them, they're really not…," I reminded her.

"You've got an oral fetish, don't you?" Eve teased.

"I don't! And it's called a fixation," Roxy said.

"No it's not," Eve said.

"Actually, I think it is called an oral fixation," I cut in.

Eve scoffed. "Ah, whatever. I'm too stoned to really care. Just stop tonguing it, okay?"

"I'm not!", Roxy protested.

"Then why does it keep swaying back and forth lack that?", Eve asked.

"Because my tongue keeps hitting it!", Roxy said. A pause of about three seconds. "Oh."

Eve and I both bust out laughing.

"Alright, I'm sorry...", Roxy said. "Here, take it back." She handed the joint back to Eve. "God, I don't even know that I'm doing it anymore. How embarrassing."

"Beats having to do your own homework..." I quipped.

Roxy sighed. "No, Aaron. No, it doesn't. It's cool for a while, sure, but then you get to test day and you don't know anything. I've failed or barely passed every test I've taken as long as I can remember. I'm like, lowest in the class."

"Have you tried studying?" I asked. "You, know, like those of us who don't have giant boobs to seduce lonely nerds into doing the work for us?"

Unexpectedly, Eve cut in. "Oh, come off it, Aaron. We're getting along for once, don't spoil it."

We were all silent for a moment. We stared past the tree canopy and into starry night sky beyond. The stars seemed more twinkly tonight than usual. Everything seemed more intense, in fact; the glimmering of the stars, the hooting of the owls and crickets, the shining of the moon, even the softness of Eve's hoodie. The colors of the flowers in the bush were brighter, too. I impulsively picked one and tried to place it in Eve's hair, but since she still had her hood on, I placed it atop that instead. Roxy started humming a tune low under her breath.

"You know, Roxy," Eve said, "sometimes I wish I could be like you."

"Huh?", Roxy asked, surprised.

Eve adjusted her position against me, causing the flower to fall to the ground. "You know… pretty. Feminine. Curves and bulges in the right places, not just flat all over."

Roxy was suddenly very quiet. "Eve, do you know what these giant _things_ on my chest are? Big bags full of other people's expectations. People look at them and think, 'Oh, what a bimbo", or 'Oh, she must be a slut", or 'What a shameless tease.'"

"You _are_ a shameless tease," I noted.

"Of course I am, because that's what a blonde girl with big tits is supposed to be! So as soon as you start walking around in a triple-D cup, everybody just assumes, and there's no use convincing them otherwise. So you figure you might as well play along and get the benefit. And people think it's a privilege. They think you have the whole world at your feet because you can just jiggle them and people obey. But the truth is, it becomes a crutch. You hit the point where you can't do anything for yourself, because your bra is doing everything for you." She heaved a heavy sigh. "Do you know why I was looking to get high today? Because I had to study to have a chance of passing finals. But I haven't studied since junior high. I haven't needed to, because I always had someone else to do the work for me. And when I opened up the book and tried to get to it, I couldn't remember how. I didn't know what I was doing. And if I can't graduate in June, I don't know what to do. I mean… what prospects does a girl without a diploma who gets by through her bust have in life? Stripper? Waitress? Gold-digging trophy wife…?" Her tone was increasing frantic, almost panicked, and Eve cut her off.

"Whoa! Chill, Roxy, take a deep breath and calm down. You're on the edge of a freakout," Eve said.

Roxy buried her face in her hands. "God, I wish I could go back to before I grew these things. I see old pictures of myself and I don't even know that girl."

Silence.

After a while, I spoke. "Everyone changes. None of us are the people we used to be. We have to be who we are."

"Who I am sucks," Roxy said bitterly.

"Then be something else," I said. She turned to look at me. "Once upon a time," I continued, "you decided you were going to stop being little Roxanne and be Roxy instead. If Roxy isn't who you want to be, be something else. Nobody ever said you can't change your mind."

Roxy scoffed. "You say that like it's easy."

I chuckled. "Of course it's not easy. If it was easy, it wouldn't be worth doing. But if you're not happy with who you are, you can't expect to be happy, period."

Roxy sighed. "I don't know." After a pause, she added, "What do you think, Eve?"

"Me?", Eve said, "I think problems are for the sober." She passed the joint back to Roxy. "Have some more. And don't worry about the tongue."

Roxy waved the joint off. "It's okay. I don't need that." After a pause, she added: "What I need is what you've got."

Eve looked confused. "Uhh… what do I have?"

Roxy sat up and turned to look Eve in the eyes. "A body that doesn't get you judged. The courage to not care what people think of you. Something to do with your life that doesn't rely on being pretty." She nodded towards me. "A boyfriend who actually cares about you."

Eve dropped her gaze and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "He's… he's not my boyfriend."

Roxy gave Eve a doubtful look. "Come on, Eve, everybody can see it. You're always so moody and emo, both of you. Always by yourselves, never talking to anybody. But then you get together, and it's like a total 180. You talk, you smile, you laugh. If you two don't know you're a couple, you're the only ones."

Eve pulled her hood closer to her face. "Yeah, well… people aren't always what they seem. I speak from experience."

"Well, that's the truth," Roxy said. "Your totally-not-boyfriend Aaron wants to talk about how people change? You only got here this year, you didn't know him before. When he first started high school, he was witty, talkative, always friendly… kind of a charmer, actually. But then last year, he just got all dour and depressing."

"My dad was dying," I said, numbly.

"Well, we know that _now_," Roxy continued, "but at the time, we all just thought, 'What's up with Aaron? He's so moody all the time.' You should have told somebody."

"Like who? You?" I asked doubtfully.

"I wouldn't have cared. I wasn't your friend," Roxy said bluntly. "But maybe those people you were always playing Frisbee with at lunchtime. They could have helped."

I shook my head. "They would have just gossiped about it. Or pitied me. I had to handle it myself."

Roxy laid back down again. "Nobody gets by alone, Aaron. We all need somebody to talk to when things get heavy."

"Things are always heavy," I said snippily.

"Yeah, I guess," Roxy said. "That's why you two are really lucky to have each other."

Were we? I looked at Eve, who pulled her hood back a little to look back at me. Smiles flashed across our faces briefly. She said nothing, but after turning back to the stars, she snuggled a little further into the crook of my arm.

"Hey Eve?" Roxy said. "I'm sorry for calling you a dyke."

"Hmm?" Eve said.

"My aunt Beatrice, she's a lesbian. But not a masculine one, she's really feminine. There was this one time, some drunk idiot at a bar thought she was flirting with him. She told him she wasn't into men, and… he didn't take it well. After she left the bar, he ambushed her on the street with two other guys backing him up, they hit her, tore her clothes, she said she thought they were going to… well… anyway, she got lucky. Some Good Samaritan happened by, ran at those thugs swinging an Arizona bottle and yelling for the cops, and they ran off. Aunt Bea would kill me if she knew I had called you a dyke as an insult. So… I'm sorry."

Eve looked at Roxy for a long moment before speaking. "When did you call me a dyke?"

Roxy blinked. "You don't remember?"

"When I'm this high, I barely remember ten seconds ago!," Eve said.

Roxy laughed first, then me, then Eve joined in. We laughed for a good long time, then Eve sputtered to a stop. "Okay, okay, enough of this serious talk. A pot party is supposed to be relaxing and fun, so lets just lay here and listen to the music."

We listened. "I don't hear any music," I said.

"That's because you're not high enough," Eve said. "If you were, you could hear the stars twinkling."

"Oh," I deadpanned.

"What do they sound like?", Roxy asked.

"Like... tiny glass bells," Eve said. "And the wind blowing through the trees is like an upbeat flute."

"Well, they are woodwinds," I quipped, to laughter from the other two.

"Hey, how about a guitar?" Roxy asked.

"The guitar is all in my head." Eve took a small hit of the joint, which was now down to about half it's original size. Then she waved it about like a conductors baton, swaying and humming along with a psychedelic tune only she could hear. Suddenly, she stood up and ran back to the footpath, dragging her backpack along with her.

"Eve?", I said. "Where…?" I stumbled to my feet and chased her, Roxy clambering along behind me. Eve stepped over the chain and left her backpack on a concrete pillar behind the bench, then continued to the center of the path, right by the streetlight. She motioned me over and I followed. "What is it?", I asked.

"Dance with me," Eve said.

"What?", I asked. "Why?"

"Because I feel like dancing. Come on." She started swaying and moving her body, moving in time with music only she could hear. I watched. "Come on," Eve said again. "You don't have to be good, just move with the music."

I gave it my best shot, but it was pretty weak. After a minute or so, I gave up. "I'm sorry, I can't hear the music you can."

Eve clicked her tongue in disappointment.

"Hey, no worries!", Roxy called out. "DJ Roxy's got you covered!" Roxy took out her phone, turned the volume up to the max, and started up a fast but mellow dance song. I started dancing along, and this time it went better. "Yeah, okay, this I can do," I said.

"It's not star-bells, but I can dig it," Eve added.

So we danced together. There was an electric energy in the air. Eve was high as a kite, and I was kissing the sky, too. Not deep-kissing, maybe just a chaste peck on the cheek, but still. I knew the song Roxy was playing, but somehow it sounded louder and more complex than usual. We matched our bodies to the rhythm, first of the music and then of each other, and danced. I remembered that night I had seen Eve dancing by herself, and how beautiful she was when nothing held her back. Now, again, she danced, and I had the privilege of being a part of it. It was wonderful.

My attention was eventually diverted by a blur of motion over Eve's shoulder. Roxy was dancing along too, albeit in a different style. Hers was a hard, clubby, bust-and-booty-shaking dance. I laughed. So did Eve. So did Roxy. She licked her lips and gave a come-hither gesture. It may have been directed at me, but it was Eve who responded, stepping over and pressing her hands against Roxy's, holding the joint between her fingers. They shimmied up and down while pushing each other's hands in circles like a bicycle. Then Roxy did a move where she would lean forward and bop her large chest against Eve's more modest one. Meanwhile, I danced by myself, watching and snickering.

After a few bops, Eve broke from Roxy's grip and stumbled backwards. Laughing, Eve took a puff on the joint. Roxy spun over my way and started dancing alongside me. Her rhythm was more difficult to match than Eve's, but I managed to keep up with her hard, demanding steps. Eve watched with a wry look- until Roxy started grinding her rear against my pants with a misbehaving grin. Moments later, Roxy found her partner yanked away so that Eve could take another turn. Roxy gave her a mock-offended look with her hands on her hips. Holding my hand, Eve leaned back and passed the joint to Roxy in compensation. Roxy took it and took a drag. She was smiling. So were we. There was no drama tonight. We were just getting along.

Eve and I stepped back and forth, forth and back, then I lifted our held hands over her head and spun her around. I was going for a dip, but instead I stumbled, which caused her to stumble. We didn't fall, but wound up face to face, with my hand on her waist to steady myself. This... was not bad. Before I knew it, we were dancing together, in a slow groove that didn't match the music, but a slower, deeper beat pounding in our hearts. Her arms rested on my shoulders. My hands held her waist. We swayed back and forth, looking into each others' eyes. Hers sparkled. Did they always do that, and I only just now noticed? Or did it only happen when her eyes were looking into mine? It didn't matter. It was a lovely feeling, to see them shining. The red lines cutting through her whites didn't make it any worse. In fact, they made the blue of her pupils even more radiant. The contact high must have really been getting to me, I thought, because Eve's eyes flashed their colors at me so brightly they washed out the whole scene. Blue from the pupils, then red from the veins. Blue again, red again. Blue and red, blue and red, blue and red…

I froze. Those lights were not from Eve's eyes. A siren blared once and all three of us turned to see a police cruiser across the street.

Oh, shit.


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

DARLING, YOU'RE SO PRETTY, IT HURTS

"Oh, fuck," Eve said.

"Oh, fuck," Roxy echoed.

"We should get out of...", I began, before a bullhorn interrupted me.

"Stay where you are!", the bullhorn blared.

We all froze, the three of us in a line. The cruiser drove away and began to make a u-turn onto our side of the street.

"Should we run?", Roxy asked.

"They said not to," I said.

"What they said won't mean anything if they can't catch us," Roxy said.

"No way! If they have to chase you, they can call that resisting arrest," Eve said.

"Are you sure?", I asked.

"No, I'm not!", Eve answered. "Forget running. Roxy, where's the joint?"

"Hidden behind my back," said Roxy.

The cop car had completed its turn and was rolling back towards us. It stopped by a gap in the fence. Eve inched closer to Roxy, until they were shoulder to shoulder. "Pass it here, quick!" Eve said.

Eve took the joint, hiked up her hoodie in the back, and shoved the joint into her pants. She slid back over to me, hissing in pain.

"What's wrong?", I asked.

Eve answered in a harsh whisper barely audible above Roxy's music. "What's wrong is that I just stuck a burning megajoint into my panties!" She squirmed about frantically, slapping her rear end. "Not a good idea! Help me put it out!"

"How?!" I asked.

"Slap it!" she said. I did so.

Roxy giggled. "Yeah, Aaron, smack that naughty ass!"

Eve couldn't help giggling at that. I could help it just fine.

"Sober up, both of you!", I hissed. "We're in deep shit if they catch on to the fact that we're high!"

And they would definitely know, I realized. No matter how good an act we put on, between the bloodshot eyes and the smell of marijuana all over… yeah, we were definitely screwed. What's worse, Tyrone's stash was sitting right there in Eve's backpack. The backpack was half-concealed behind the bench, but if the cops found and searched it, we were double screwed. Hell, we were screwed to the power of screwed. My mind raced trying to think of a way out.

"You don't think they'll strip search us, will they?" Eve asked. "Because… I can't take that. I'd sooner hand over the joint than..."

I shushed her. "Keep calm. They don't strip-search in public. They'll probably just frisk us."

Two cops got out of the car- a middle-aged man with a mustache, and a younger woman with a ponytail. They approached us, each holding a flashlight in the cop position- beside the head, gripped like a club, beam pointed straight ahead into our faces.

Roxy gasped. "Oh my god, what if they grope us?"

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal," I said.

"Since when has that ever stopped a dirty cop?", Roxy said, working up to a panic. "They'll just say we're ly-"

The mustached cop interrupted her. "Shut that music off!", he ordered.

Roxy turned off the music, as commanded. Mustache stood before us with a severe look on his face. "So, what's going on here?", the cop asked, with the tired air of somebody who could recite both sides of the coming conversation verbatim.

"Uhh...", Eve said.

"Dance party!", Roxy interjected.

"Yeah!", Eve said, too quickly.

"Dance party," the officer deadpanned.

We all nodded.

"In the middle of the park."

Again, we nodded.

"Why?", he asked.

"They card us at the clubs," I offered. Hey, it was true.

"Uh-huh," the officer said, disinterested. "You kids high?"

"No," we all said at once, shaking our heads.

"Uh-huh," the officer said. He pointed at the bench. "Line up. Standing. Where we can see all three of you at once." I had a feeling all five of us knew where this road we were walking led, and yet we walked it because a deviation was as pointless as a shortcut. We lined up. The ponytailed cop went down the line, shining her light into each of our faces in turn. "Bloodshot," she said. "All three of them."

Mustache nodded tiredly. "All right, kids, we can see your eyes, we can smell the pot, and we saw you with a joint from across the street. Now, we can do this easy, or we can do it hard. Who's got the stuff?"

None of us answered.

"We're going to search all three of you regardless. Tell us the truth, and it'll..."

"She's got it!" I pointed at Roxy.

"What?!" Roxy exclaimed.

"It was hers! We were just here to dance, but..." I babbled.

"You lying little…," Roxy growled.

"Quiet!", the mustached cop yelled, silencing us all. He pointed at me. "What's your name, kid?"

I swallowed. "Aaron."

"Aaron, you're looking pretty nervous right now. Something you want to tell us?"

"It.. it was hers, I swear, we all just planned..."

"Shut up," the cop said. I did. He waved me over. Nervously, I stepped forward. "Hold your hands out to the side, legs apart," he said. I complied and his partner patted me down. "Turn out your pockets," she said. I did so, turning over the contents to her. She inspected them and went through my wallet, then handed everything back to me. Then she checked my inside jacket pockets, finding nothing. "Hey, watch it...", I said.

Ponytail ignored me. "Clear," she said.

"Alright," mustache replied. He waved me back to the bench. I walked over and stood beside and slightly behind it, standing a little more relaxed.

"You next," mustache said, pointing at Roxy.

Roxy glared. "I don't have anything."

"You next," mustache repeated.

"If you want to find something, search her!" Roxy said, pointing at Eve. "Then you'll find someth..."

"She'll get her turn!", mustache said, raising his voice. "Get over here!"

Roxy walked over to the cops and assumed the position. The ponytailed cop started to pat her down. "Watch your hands!", Roxy yelled.

"Relax, girl," mustache said.

"I will not relax, your partner could be a secret molester for all I know!"

"We could do a strip search at the station, if you'd prefer," mustache said.

"That's a threat of sexual violence!", Roxy said. "What's your badge numb..."

"Tell it to the judge," mustache said.

Roxy stood still as the officer patted her down. She was silent until the search reached her hips. "Keep your hands off my ass!" She yelled.

"Ma'am," said ponytail, "I'm not touching your..."

"Fuck you! I know what a grope is! I'll have both your badges for this!", Roxy yelled.

"Tell it to the judge," mustache repeated sternly.

"I'm telling it to you, asshole!" And with that, Roxy slapped to mustached cop right across the face.

I saw the unspoken "Uh-oh" cross Roxy's face mere moments before she was tackled and wrestled to the ground. Ponytail held her down while mustache slapped handcuffs on her. Roxy struggled and protested, but was soon forced to submit. The cops lifted her to her feet, dragged her over to the bench, and sat her there with her hands cuffed behind her back.

She sat silent under the cops' stoic gaze. "Now," mustache said softly. "Sit down, shut up, and behave yourself, and we'll call that resisting arrest. Keep making a nuisance of yourself, and we'll call it assaulting an officer. Got it?"

Roxy said nothing. She just hung her head and stewed.

I glanced over at Eve to find her shifting nervously from foot to foot. From my position, I could see the joint sticking up from her pants. The jig was up as soon as she stepped forward to be searched. I wished that I could hold her hand, but she was too far away. With her back to me, I couldn't even catch her eye. Mustache pointed at her. "You next."

Eve hesitated. She was trembling. "Miss," mustache said. "Over here."

"Go on, Eve," Roxy said sneeringly. "Whatever are you afraid of?"

"No more out of you," mustache snapped, then waved Eve forward again. For a second I thought she was going to panic and make a run for it. But she took her appointed place. The ponytailed cop moved to frisk her, and immediately found the joint. "Marijuana cigarette, used," she said.

"And there we go," mustache said, unsurprised. The ponytailed cop stuffed the joint into an evidence bag and continued searching Eve. As she did, mustache lectured us. "You kids, you always think you're not going to get caught, don't you? Always think you can get out of it. Wave around a big fat reefer right in public and it ain't no big thing, is it?" He shook his head and pointed off to the car. "Get in, all of you. We're going for a ride."

"What?!", Roxy said. "The hell... she's the one with the joint! Why am I…?"

"Miss, your eyes are just as red as hers. Don't try and tell me you haven't all been sharing it. Move."

"Y-you don't know that!", Roxy sputtered. "This is…,"

Mustache sighed. "Tell it to the judge."

The ponytailed cop took Roxy by the arm and waved the rest of us forward, to the car. We walked. Mustache took a last look around the area. Roxy seethed as we went. "Fucking Eve! I'll get you back for this, bitch!"

Eve said nothing. She walked with her head down, ashamed of herself. I caught up and laid a hand on her shoulder. We said nothing, but she put her hand over mine and squeezed it.

"Wait," said Mustache. We turned to see him walk over to the bench, and pick up something from the stone pillar behind it. Eve's backpack. Eve went white as a sheet.

"That… that's not mine!", she called out, way too suddenly and way too fearful.

"Didn't say it was," Mustache said coolly. "Why, what's in it?"

"I… I don't know, it's not mine!", Eve said.

"Why so concerned, then?", Mustache asked.

"Oh, it's hers all right!", Roxy butted in. "Ask anybody at the high school, she carries it around every day."

"Roxy!", Eve screamed. Roxy didn't know about the stash in the backpack or the implications if it was found, but Eve certainly did. She saw the officer unzipping the pack and started to panic. "Y-you can't search that without a warrant! I know my rights!"

I took her hand. "Eve, settle down."

"B-but, they… they…", she looked back and forth from the cop to me, on the verge of tears.

"Eve!", I barked. Her eyes were instantly on me and me alone. "Just. Calm. Down," I said softly. "The officer is not going to hurt your drawings."

Her mouth opened and closed, making no sound. Confusion was written all over her face.

"Trust me," I added, looking her dead in the eyes with a firm look.

In her eyes I saw no understanding. But she squeezed my hand, clenched her mouth shut, and composed herself.

The officer rummaged through Eve's backpack, opening all the pockets, moving aside all the books, looking through her pencil case, and searching diligently for anything incriminating. But he wouldn't find anything. There was nothing to find.

I was not so high that I wasn't still thinking straight. The joint was always going to be found, that had been nearly certain. The stash was the problem. When I accused Roxy, I knew the cops would do one of two things- they would believe me and search Roxy, or they would think I was deflecting and search me. When they found nothing on me, they would probably search Roxy next, thinking I had been telling the truth after all. Either way, they would search Roxy before Eve. Because Roxy was Roxy, I knew she would give them a hard time. More so since she was freaking out about groping. I didn't expect her to actually take a swing, but even if not their attention would have to be focused on her. That left me standing by the bench, unobserved, with Eve's backpack sitting right beside me. I was only just able to reach Eve's backpack with one hand, allowing me to open the pocket, grab the stash, and toss it into the bushes behind me while Roxy was distracting the cops. Now, so long as Eve didn't blurt out anything incriminating and the cops didn't think to check the bushes, we would be okay.

Sure enough, the mustached cop found nothing in the bag. "All clear. Nothing but books and art supplies." He walked over and handed it to Eve. "See, kids, this is what pot does to you. Makes you all paranoid. People say, 'Oh, a little pot is harmless, you can't overdose, blah blah blah,' it is not harmless, it messes with your head. Why do you think addicts are always dumb as a pile of bricks. Get in the car, all three of you."

We were marched over to the car like a bunch of prisoners. Which I suppose we kinda were. Eve held her backpack close to her chest, and avoided meeting anybody's gaze. Roxy spent the entire car ride handcuffed, looking out the window, with a positively nasty sneer on her face.

Getting arrested was far from pleasant, but all told it could have been much worse. The state, in its wisdom, had decided that high schoolers with joints are not worth the trouble of putting through the legal system, at least not on a first offense. They let Eve and I off with citations. The cops called our parental substitutes to bring $200 each for the fines, and then spent ten or fifteen minutes lecturing us on the evils of marijuana while we nodded along in our best impressions of sincerity.

Roxy was not so lucky. Taking a swing cop was a much bigger deal. She was taken away for booking, and probably to spend the night in a cell. I felt bad for my part in it, but I consoled myself- or perhaps simply justified- that I had saved us all from getting caught with a pound of marijuana. Doubtful that Roxy would see it that way, though. Doubtful also that she would forget this anytime soon. So much for getting along.

After they tired of berating us, the cops sat Eve and I in chairs in an alcove to await our rides. They kept an eye on us, but otherwise left us alone to stew in guilt and worry. I slumped resignedly, mentally preparing myself for a boatload of trouble once Diane arrived. Eve sat scrunched in the chair, knees hugged to her chest, hood pulled up as far as it could go, face completely hidden. I nudged her gently. "You okay?"

Eve shook her head no.

I reached over and took her hand. She clasped mine tightly. "It'll be okay," I said.

It was a while before she replied. "Grace is going to kill me," she said.

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. "It'll be okay," I repeated, fully understanding what poor reassurance it was. I struggled to come up with something better. "It's not so bad. Grace has been busted before, right? Besides, this is really small in the big scheme of things. I mean..."

"Stop," Eve cut me off. She squeezed my hand a little harder. "Thanks, Aaron, but it's not helping."

So we just sat there in silence, holding hands.

Eventually, a cop called Eve's name. She looked up. "Your ride's here," the cop said.

Eve got up. I wanted to say something. "Good night"? "Good luck"? "Be safe"? Nothing seemed right, so I said nothing. Eve squeezed my hand one last time. Then my hand fell out of hers as she walked away.

I leaned back into the seat, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling. I heard a familiar voice- Grace- yelling. The yelling got louder and louder. Finally, unable to ignore it, I rose and peeked around the corner. Grace was there in a riding jacket and pants, lambasting a cowering Eve in a red-faced fury.

"How could you be so stupid?!" Grace ranted. "Do you know how much trouble you've caused?!"

"I'm sorry!", Eve pleaded. "I didn't think..."

"Of course you didn't think! If you were thinking, you wouldn't have lit up in public in full view of everybody!"

"I'm sorry...", Eve repeated.

"Sorry doesn't make up for a two hundred dollar fine! Do you know where that comes from?! Out of the mortgage payment! How are we going to make up for it?!"

Eve's voice was trembling. "I didn't do anything that you hav..."

"Shut up!" Grace yelled, eyes wide with rage. Eve flinched as if struck.

"Ma'am," the cop at the desk said softly, "I'm going to have to ask you to calm down."

Grace squeezed her eyes shut, grit her teeth, grabbed at her hair as if to pull it out. Then she said, in a measured tone: "Eve, let's go. We'll talk at home." Grace stormed out and Eve followed behind her, head down, not looking back.

I returned to my seat, defeated. I ran my fingers through my hair, which I imagined was looking fairly haggard right now. As soon as Diane showed, I'd be getting the same from her as Eve had just gotten from Grace. What a fiasco this had been.

I sat there trying to figure out what I could say when Diane arrived. Some time passed- maybe ten or twenty minutes, I wasn't keeping track. Then the desk sergeant called my name. "Your ride's here."

I rose from my seat, straightened my clothes, and tried to stand upright. Face death with dignity.

I walked out from the alcove and over to the desk. "Thanks for coming, Aunt Diane," I said, trying to take control of the situation. "Look, I don't know what you've heard, but..."

I stopped. Both my feet and my words. The woman at the desk was not Diane. She was slightly older, with tangled, messy hair that a hairbrush had been unable to tame. She seemed to have dressed hurriedly, in jeans and a collared ladies polo shirt, with sneakers and a suede jacket. I hardly recognized her, it had been so long since she'd been in anything but that frazzled pink bathrobe.

"Hi, Mom," I said, the rest of my speech promptly forgotten.

For a second we just stood there, looking at each other across the space of several feet. I didn't know what to expect from her. She didn't seem to know what to do herself.

In the end, she crossed the distance between us and hugged me tight. I hugged her back, and heard her sob loudly in my ear. Like it had been forever since we'd seen each other.

The ride home was silent. Deafeningly silent, as it were. And after about three blocks, when it became clear that Mom wasn't going to say anything, I couldn't take it.

"I'm sorry about this, Mom," I said.

No answer.

"I'll pay you back out of my summer job," I added.

No answer. Mom just stared at the road. Distracting her while driving was probably not a good idea anyway, so I resigned myself to enduring the silence. Then she spoke.

"Drugs, Aaron?", Mom asked. Her voice quivered, but not in anger. If I had to put a word to it, that word would be 'agony.'

"It was just pot. And I wasn't smoking, my friends were." No need to tell her I had gotten high off the secondhand smoke.

"You can't do that stuff, Aaron, it'll ruin your life," she said.

I resisted the impulse to roll my eyes. "Meth ruins your life. Heroin ruins your life. Marijuana will be sold in Walgreens in ten years."

"But why?", she asked, a note of desperation in her voice.

That was a good question. I hadn't actually done anything, I just stuck around while Eve did. But even if Mom bought that, there was no way I was going to make Eve the bad guy here. She had enough trouble already. "Somebody had some, and I wanted to try it, so I asked. Look, don't worry about it. Pot isn't anywhere near as big a deal as it used to be. If it was, I'd be sitting in jail right now instead of getting a fine and riding home."

"Your friend _is_ sitting in jail!", Mom said.

"That's because she slapped a cop," I said. "And I don't think she's my friend. Not after this, anyway."

A long silence.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," Mom said. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault for not being there for you."

I sighed. "No, Mom, that has nothing to do with it. Much as I wish it did."

"W-what do you mean?", she said, confused.

I snapped at her. "What I mean is if believing that is what it takes to get you off the couch and out of that bathrobe, maybe it'd be worth it!"

Tears came to her eyes, and I immediately regretted my words.

"Oh jeez... Mom… I'm sorry, I shouldn't be..."

"No," she said softly. "No, you're right. Aaron, I'm so sorry. It's just… I don't know what to do. Your father would have known. He always did."

Did he, though? Dad had been a good provider. He made sure we had everything- a house, two cars, a big-screen TV. I had a chest full of toys when I was young, and the latest video games and computers as I grew older. Mom had nice clothes- not designer labels, but pretty-, to wear when they went to dinner for special occasions. We took a week's vacation every summer. We weren't rich, but we were comfortable. And we were happy. And Dad worked hard to keep it that way. By the usual measures, that made him a success. And yet, all of it vanished along with him. Nothing left but memories. And the emptiness of loss. Was that the sum total of a man's life? A pile of junk that all gets thrown away when he's gone? If Dad knew everything, how did he leave us with nothing?

We rode in silence until we got back home. Mom parked the car in the driveway and we got out. It had gotten very late- almost midnight, in fact. Mom came around the car and walked up the walk, with me trailing behind her. She fumbled with her keys at the front door. As soon as it was open, Diane would be in front of us, wanting to know what was up. I tilted my head back and looked up at the sky. I remembered one day when I was five, there was a blackout in the evening. Since the TV wouldn't work, Mom and Dad and I had spent the evening sitting on these steps, looking at the stars. The stars shined this night just as they had then. Just as they did every night, twinkling faithfully, indifferent to the thousand turmoils that raged every day across all the earth. At least something could be calm and steady in all this mess.

"Mom, wait." I said.

Mom stopped fussing with the door and turned to me. I took a minute to gather my thoughts, then looked her straight in the eyes. "Dad's dead, Mom. He's not coming back no matter how long you wait on the couch. I don't like it, you don't like it, but that's how it is. You have to bury the past and go on with your life, we both do."

"Aaron… it's so difficult," she said. "He always took care of everything, and I don't..."

"Yes, that's right, he took care of everything, and why? Because he wanted us to be happy. That was his life's work, and he worked hard on it everyday. How do you think he feels when he looks in on us from the great beyond and sees you lying around miserable like everything he did was for nothing? We have to find our own happiness now, without him. You can't just lie around the rest of your life and be a burden to Aunt Diane."

"I don't..." she clenched her eyes tight to hold back the sobs. "You say it like it's easy, Aaron..."

"It's not easy, I know that as well as you, but it's necessary. We can't let Dad's life be for nothing. We have to use what he gave us to..." To what? I barely even understood what I was saying. "Mom, you don't owe me anything. You haven't wrecked my life in any way. But seeing you on that couch being miserable all the time makes me miserable as well. And Diane too. I wish that we could get you off that couch and make you happy again, but we can't. All we can offer you is our shoulders to cry on. So get that crying done, and then get up, fix your hair, and get on with living again. Because the world's not going to wait for you."

Mom leaned her head forward against the door frame. She heaved a heavy sigh. "Aaron..."

Before she could finish, the door swung open and we both turned to see Diane standing in the doorway. One look at us and she knew she had interrupted something serious. But, what could you do in that situation? Leave them standing awkwardly on the step?

"Everything okay?" Diane asked.

Mom didn't answer, so I did. "Ah… yeah. About as much as it could be under the circumstances."

"Well, come in," Diane said. "Dinner's in the fridge, make yourself a plate and we'll talk while you're eating."

We walked inside and Diane shut the door behind us. "I'm not hungry, thanks. I'm just gonna crash." I was actually very hungry- munchies, I suspected- but I was also exhausted.

Diane grabbed me by the arm as I tried to make for the stairs. "Oh, I insist. We have a whole lot to talk about tonight, wouldn't you say?" She had an angry look in her eyes that told me I was going to get bitched out like you wouldn't believe.

"Let him go, Diane," Mom said. "It's been a long night for everyone, we can talk in the morning."

Diane looked from me to Mom and back again. Screwed her face into a thoughtful look, and finally let me go. "Well, alright, I guess it has been a long night. But we _will_ be talking in the morning."

"Got it," I said. "Good night Mom, Good night Diane."

I tromped up the stairs, stopping at the upstairs bathroom before heading to my room. By the time I was out of the bathroom, I already heard Mom and Diane talking downstairs. I couldn't hear what was being said, but Mom was sobbing. In fact, she was bawling her eyes out. I left them to it and went to my room, shutting the door behind me.

In my room, I unloaded my pockets on the desk and started preparing for bed. What a night it had been. I had to wonder if I could have done something different. Maybe if I had followed my instincts and not shown up at the fountain tonight, Eve wouldn't have gone ahead with her plan. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten in so much shit. I'd been trying to help her out, but was I really just enabling her bad ideas? Or maybe it was better that I was there after all. Maybe if I hadn't been, Eve would have been caught with Tyrone's stash.

I took my phone and sent her a text. "Are you home?" A second later, I sent another. "Are you okay?" No reply. Probably she was already in bed. Or maybe her network was crapping out again. I hoped she was okay. Hoping was all I could do. I couldn't protect Eve from her mistakes any more than I could talk Mom out of her depression. I felt so useless. Was there really any point to it? What good was it to love someone if you couldn't do anything to help them?

I didn't know, I couldn't know, and anyway it was too late for this shit. Tossing my phone onto the desk, I crashed face-first into my bed. Within moments I was asleep.


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

HERE AM I IN MY LITTLE BUBBLE

I read _To Kill A Mockingbird_ for English class in middle school, at least partially to learn about racism in the early 20th century. My teacher would probably not be pleased to know the main thing I remember from it years later is that things are always better in the morning. In my defense, it's true. Not that the rest of the book _isn't_ true, but it's a truth from another world, one that grows ever more distant and foreign as decades pass. But some things are universal, and the cleansing effect of a good night's sleep is one.

So when I woke up Thursday morning, I was in a relatively good mood, prepared to put the previous night's drama behind me and get on with my life. After washing and dressing, I heard someone else in the shower on the way downstairs. I didn't think much of it, until downstairs I found the couch empty and my lunch packed in a sandwich bag. A smile crossed my face. I wasn't foolish enough to think this was the end of the road, but it was movement, and that was important. Easier to keep moving once you've started than to get started in the first place.

My mood got even better at school, where I was able to record some entertaining drama on my phone. But then French class happened. Eve didn't show. She wasn't on the bleachers at lunch either, and several texts went unanswered. When I checked with Kevin he said that nobody had seen her or Roxy all day. Rumors were flying, and of course Kevin suspected I would know something. I promised to tell him later.

After school, I sent a quick text to Aunt Diane saying I'd be late for dinner, then another to Eve asking again if she was okay. Neither text was answered, which was just as well- it meant nothing stopped me on the way to Sugar Tats.

Today was apparently a slow day at the tattoo parlor. There were no customers. Grace stood behind the counter, looking less than happy. Odette sat in one of the chairs up front, reading a magazine. Tucker didn't seem to be around. Laying extra low after last night, perhaps. As I walked in, the ringing of the bell brought all eyes to me. Odette gave me a bright smile. "Well, hey!", she said. "If it isn't Clyde Barrow himself!"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Clyde Barrow," Odette repeated.

I gave her a bewildered look.

"You know, as in Bonnie and Clyde?"

"Oh," I said.

"I have to say," Odette continued, "you move fast, honey! I mean, normally I wait for the third date to get arrested together."

I put my hand behind my head nervously. "Uh… well, it wasn't exactly something we planned…,"

Odette laughed. "Always so bashful! Don't be, a woman likes a man who shows her a little danger. Say, if you want some ink done, I can give a master criminal like you a discount on some prison-style work."

"No thanks, I don't intend to go to prison anytime soon," I said.

"You should, it might be a good growth experience for you. Did you know the real Clyde Barrow learned he was bisexual in prison?"

"Uhhhhh…," I said. Odette seemed to have me saying that a lot.

Grace cut in to our conversation. "Hey Odie, how do you feel about pizza for dinner?"

Odette shook her head no. "No thanks, I brought something."

"Then shut your mouth before I send you out to get some!", Grace snapped.

Odette recoiled at the attack. "Alright, fine… jeez, claws out today." She went back to her magazine, turning the pages petulantly.

I walked up to the counter. Grace gave me a look that was a mere curl of the lip away from a sneer. "Hey, um… is Eve around?", I asked. "She wasn't in school, and she's not answering her texts either. I'm a little worried…"

"Eve's upstairs," Grace said curtly.

"Oh," I said. "Is she, um… is she okay? Is she being punished?"

"Not by me," Grace said. "But she doesn't need me. Eve is very good at punishing herself. She's been up there all day, dead to the world. She wouldn't even get out of bed this morning."

"Ah," I said. "I'm, uhh… I'm sorry about what happened last night."

"From what I hear, you weren't the one who screwed up." Grace said.

"It just… it wasn't what it looked like," I said lamely.

Grace slammed the counter. "Oh, really? Then what was it? Because from what I've been able to gather, it looked like she got her hands on a Labrador-sized reefer, lit it up in public, got so high she decided the park was a dance club, got arrested, forced me to come down to the police station with a big chunk of this month's mortgage payment, and then to top it all off, nearly narked on me in the middle of the police station."

"That's not how it happened," I protested. Grace crossed her arms and glared at me, expecting an explanation. I had to think for a while how to continue. Almost a full minute passed in silence.

"Well, actually, that's pretty much exactly what happened," I admitted sheepishly.

Grace sighed tiredly and ran her hand through her hair. "Aaron, look, you're a good kid, but… Eve is the only family I've got left, and I need to be sure she's safe."

"I'm sorry, Grace," I said. "It won't happen again."

"It's not your fault, Aaron, I know that. Eve always wants to…" She trailed off. Her hands clenched and unclenched in frustration.

It suddenly occurred to me what an awful position Grace was in. She had barely even gotten her life together when he parents died, leaving her with no family. In a sense, she'd lost her little sister as well, and received in her place a daughter that she had to look after with no experience as a parent or guardian. A rebellious teenage daughter, at that. I couldn't imagine the kind of pressure she was under. And with Eve repeating many of the things she'd done in her wild child days, it must have felt like karmic punishment.

"She's been through a lot, hasn't she?", I said. "You both have."

Grace laughed humorlessly. "You have no idea. Aaron, you're a good kid, and Eve's a good kid too, but she needs somebody to rely on. Emotional support. I do my best, but I have my hands full just keeping a roof over our heads. I'm glad she's got you, I know she's been a lot happier since she's gotten to know you, but… I just can't shake the feeling that you're going to break her heart."

"I would never hurt Eve," I said.

"You can't make a promise like that. You don't know what it means," Grace said.

"Of course I don't," I said. "Who ever does? We don't know what the future will bring. All I know is that I can't stand seeing her unhappy."

"Why?", Grace asked.

The answer was 'Because I love her.' But I couldn't say that. What would Grace think? Would she be encouraged, or suspicious, or would she laugh in my face and dismiss it as the folly of youth? And when Grace told Eve, what would _she_ think? So I fell back to the question before that question: why did I love Eve? Funny. In all this I had barely considered that, and when I had the question had frustrated me. But today, the answer was crystal clear:

"Because she was there for me when I was too stupid to know that I needed somebody."

Grace gave me a look that said I was either incredibly deluded or incredibly wise, and she had no idea which. Which was fair enough, given I wasn't too sure of it myself.

"Look," I continued, "can I talk to her? I don't know if I can make anything right, but… maybe I'll at least be able to get her out of bed."

I knocked on the bedroom door. "Eve?" No answer. I knocked again. "Eve, it's me. Are you in there?" Still no answer. I was hesitant to enter without permission, but it occurred to me that if Eve decided to leave the room out the window, the way I had that one time, Grace never would have known. "I'm coming in, okay?"

I pushed open the door and walked in. The room looked the same as before, albeit the clutter had been shuffled around. I noted Eve's hoodie lying crumpled on the desk, and a large, human-shaped lump lying face-down under the bedsheets, holding the pillow over her head. I shut the door behind me and walked over to the bed. "You asleep?", I asked. No answer. "Eve?"

"Yes, I'm asleep," said the lump in Eve's voice. "Go away."

I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sit up. Let me see you."

"No," she said flatly.

"I need to make sure you're alright," I said.

Her fingernails dug into the pillow. "I told you to go away."

"And I'm refusing," I said. "Funny thing, to force the issue, you'll have to get out from under those covers first. So I win either way."

No response.

"I can just stay here annoying you until you have no choice," I continued. "I've got all night."

"You're an asshole, Aaron," she said.

I snickered. "When it serves a greater good, yeah. Are you ticklish anywhere?"

With a sigh, Eve relented. She rose and drew herself up to a sitting position against the wall. The sheets still covered her legs and the pillow sat in her lap. She wore a dark gray tee tucked into the waistband of some pajama pants. Her hair was a mess, and her face was stuck in a morose frown. "Happy?", she asked.

"Not really. You look like hell," I said.

Eve flipped me off. I chuckled.

"You okay?", I said seriously.

"Yeah," Eve said. But when her eyes met mine, we both knew it was a lie. "Maybe," she said, looking away toward the wall. Her hands tightened before her composure broke. "No," she admitted, shutting her eyes tight with a sob. "I messed up. I messed up big."

"It's alright," I said weakly.

"No, it's not alright! I've ruined everything! For me, for you, for Grace… oh my god, Grace. How is she going to pay the bills now?! She took me in, looked after me, gave me this room, supported me in everything… she gave up her life for me, Aaron! Her happy, carefree, life. She gave it up for me!" The tears started flowing now. "And I went and threw it all away! I destroyed it just like…," she trailed off and buried her face in her hands, but it didn't stop the tears.

"Eve...", I began, but by now the sobs were coming openly, and I couldn't find the words. Instead I shifted closer and put my arm around her shoulder. "Come here," I said softly.

She collapsed into my arms and laid there, crying into my chest. She seemed so very frail right then, but I held her close, doing what I could to make her feel safe. I stroked her hair gently as she let it out. We stayed like that for awhile, until finally she straightened herself and sat up. Eve took a deep, cleansing breath, and let it out. Then she wiped away the tears. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she looked a little better. I rested a hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry, Aaron," Eve said, dodging my gaze. "You had to suffer for this, too. I should have..." She slumped back against the wall with a sigh. "This was a bad idea from the start. You should have talked me out of it."

"You wouldn't have listened.", I said. "If I had to put up with the shit you do on a daily basis, I wouldn't either. Or you would have obeyed to make me happy, then hated me for it. But it's okay, no apologies needed. So I got arrested for smoking pot in high school, big deal. Something to make my memoirs interesting one day, after I've become a famous celebrity, or politician, or mass murderer."

Eve gave a sardonic little laugh. She smiled, ever so slightly.

"And as for Grace," I continued, "two hundred dollars is not the end of the world. She complains about the money, but she's a strong woman, and so are you. You'll tighten your belts for a bit and it'll work out. Nobody's life is ruined. Look on the bright side, now you can cross Tyrone, Chad, Chico, and Annie off your revenge list."

Eve and shook her head. "I tore that list up last night. Project Last Laugh wasn't worth it."

I waited patiently for her to get it.

"Wait," Eve said. "What do you mean about Annie?"

With a small, fiendish smile, I took out my phone and played the video I'd taken earlier in the day. On the screen, Annie confronted Chad in the school hallways. Her hand pinched her nose shut. Other students milled around in the background, some covering their own noses. "Get out!", Annie screamed. "Get away from me! Euugh! I can taste it!"

"I'm sorry!", Chad said. "I can't do anything about it!"

"Oh my God, why didn't you wash?!", Annie said, going green in the face.

"I did! Twice!", Chad said. "It doesn't work, I have to wait for it to go away on its own."

"Get out!," Annie said. "Go home! That stench is a menace to the school!"

"I can't!", Chad said pleadingly. "I have too many absences, I'll flunk the year if I'm not in class…."

"I will arrange for a one-day waiver, go home and scrub your skin until it falls off!", Annie said.

"One day isn't going to cut it," Chad said. "It got all over my books too, here take a look..." He unzipped his backpack and Annie recoiled."

"No! No!", Annie said warningly. "Keep that thing away! Don't bring it over..."

"Here, look, they all got soaked in it…," Chad began, but Annie's retching cut him off.

Annie ran to a nearby garbage can- one of the big rolling ones the janitors used- and disgorged the contents of her stomach directly into it. Some of the students laughed in the background. Eve, watching the video, cracked up with a broad smile on her face.

Chad grimaced. "Oh, shit. Sorry, Annie, I didn't…"

Annie peeked up from the garbage and held up a single authoritative index finger, silencing Chad. "Get out of my school and go home right now, and you have my word you will not be punished. Go!"

Without another word, Chad turned and ran off out of the frame of the shot. Annie, looking pale, leaned back over the lid of the garbage can to vomit again, and yelped as she lost her footing and nearly tumbled into the can. The video ended there.

Eve doubled over in laughter. "Oh my God! That was priceless!"

"Oh, hell yeah!" I said, taking my phone back. "It was the talk of the whole school all day, I overheard it being discussed in five different periods, plus lunch."

Eve kept on laughing hysterically until she had to catch her breath. She was almost tearing up by the time she sputtered to a stop. When she did, she looked at me with the sweetest look I've ever seen on her face. "How do you do this, Aaron?"

"Do what?", I asked.

"Make me feel good," she said. "All the time, even when I'm down. I just can't feel bad around you."

I shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe I'm just charming."

She snickered. "Well, whatever it is, thanks."

I smiled. "What kind of a guy would I be if I let the people I care most about wallow in misery?"

She just smiled back at me. That smile made me feel warm and purposeful inside. I looked away before the whole just-staring-at-each-other thing started to feel awkward.

"Well...", I said, "I'd love to stick around, but I should get home before my family starts to worry. Will you be okay?"

Eve nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I should get out of bed and do something. Maybe microwave some dinner, I missed breakfast and lunch today."

She threw off the sheets and we both stood up. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, okay?", I said.

"You got it," Eve said.

"And don't worry about last night," I added. "In five years this'll be a story we all tell at Christmas parties. Hell, Odette's already joking about it. Did you hear what she called us?"

She looked at me expectantly.

"Bonnie and Clyde," I said.

Eve sputtered out a laugh, covering her mouth to prevent herself from doubling over again. "Seriously?"

"Ask her yourself. This is our new rep: Aaron and Eve, outlaw couple," I said.

Eve laughed again. "I don't think you would look very good in a 30's suit."

"Eh…," I said, making a waffling gesture. "You'd look great in a dress, though."

Eve shook her head. "Oh, no, dresses are not my thing."

I shrugged. "Give it a try sometime. You might like it." I walked to the door and grabbed the doorknob.

"Aaron?", Eve said.

"Hmm?", I turned around, and a second later Eve essentially tackled me. Before I knew it she had both arms around my chest, pressing her face into my shoulder. Initially surprised, I soon returned the embrace. Her body was warm in my arms, and she smelled nice. Really nice. Not like floral shampoo, as usual. More like… a faint musk. Unshowered. But not unpleasant. I held her for awhile, then had to disengage before I embarrassed myself.

"Thanks again, Aaron," she said. "You're the best."

"I try," I said. "See you tomorrow."

I arrived home to a slightly cold dinner and the prophesied "talk" from previously, about how drugs are bad, etc.. It was lighter than I expected, honestly- I suppose that neither Mom nor Diane considered me a potential recidivist. That, or pot really _wasn't_ a big deal like it used to be.

Roxy had it much harder then Eve and I- she had to plead guilty to resisting arrest and spend several weeks of the summer in an unflattering orange vest picking up trash along the highways. And she would hold a grudge, which would shortly come back to haunt us. But other than that, the law and our families were done punishing us.

High school, of course, was still high school. By the morning, everybody knew everything. I was expecting to get shit for it. But the reaction was quite the opposite. We were heroes to the student body. People pointed at us and whispered to their friends when they saw me pass. Several actually came up and asked me if I knew where to buy drugs. I told them all no. I had to continue telling them this for a week or so until the drama died down.

Mind you, it wasn't all glory. There were others to whom we were the scum of the earth. Annie was firmly in the latter camp, and smelled some glory of her own if she could catch us in the act. She kept sharp eyes on us, like a predator waiting for her prey to grow weary. I brushed it off- Annie would be Annie. But what I couldn't brush off was the three dudes who were very, very concerned about where we had gotten our pot.

It was lunchtime when I met up with them. I was walking to meet Eve out at the bleachers when I saw Tyrone down the hall. He saw me as well. Our eyes met, and his narrowed to menacing slits. He gestured to his comrades, and they walked down the hall three abreast towards me. They made an intimidating group, but I refused to run. I had to face up to the consequences of my actions. Better me than Eve. _Be brave_, I told myself.

I marched towards them. A few steps apart, I waved. "Hey, Tyrone!", I called, loud enough to turn a few bystanders into potential witnesses. We stopped right in front of each other, Chico and Chad standing to each side of Tyrone. They were all uncomfortably close, though fortunately they had managed to deodorize themselves somehow since yesterday. All three were ready for a fight, but nobody made a move. Yet.

I spoke first. "Say, about those cookies..."

Tyrone glared coldly. "Cookies?"

"Yeah," I said, "the ones Eve and I borrowed from you the other day, remember? Because, well, we've had about enough, and we'd like to return them."

Tyrone nodded slowly. "Now," he said. Not as a question.

"Well, I don't have them on me, but..." I leaned in close and whispered. "If you're willing to discuss this like gentlemen, we should find someplace a bit more private to talk."

Tyrone took a long look at me, considering. Then he snapped his fingers like a dog trainer. The four of us walked on, Tyrone ahead, Chad and Chico behind, and me walking in between them, like a prisoner under guard. Several students looked on as we moved down the hallway. We ducked through a wooden double door into a stairwell with an alarmed emergency exit at the far end. These particular stairs were hardly used, and had an alcove underneath the stairway itself. Good place to conduct clandestine business. Or to administer a beatdown.

We walked to the far end and ducked into the alcove. It was dark and claustrophobic, especially with Chico and Chad standing by outside, blocking off potential escape. Tyrone turned to look me in the eyes. He crossed his arms. "Talk," he said.

I took a deep breath before beginning. "Yes, it was Eve and I that stink bombed you and stole your stash the other night. Roxy had nothing to do with it; we just happened to run into her and hung out a bit. When we got busted by the cops, she created a distraction and..."

"Where is it?!", Tyrone said, breathing down my neck. I held up my hands for calm.

"I ditched it in the bushes.," I said.

Three jaws dropped. "YOU WHAT?!" Tyrone bellowed. He was right in my face. My eardrums winced and I felt tiny beads of spittle on my skin. I tried to keep cool.

"It's near the bench along the north path, just past the big tree," I said. "I'm not sure exactly wher..."

"It _was_ there," Tyrone yelled. "Two days ago it was there! By now somebody else found it. Or some dog had a snack, blew his mind, and turned it into dogshit!"

"Man, let's pulverize...", Chad stepped forward, fists clenched.

"I do the talking, Chad!", Tyrone said.

"I think we've heard enough talk...", Chad continued, but Tyrone made a commanding gesture and stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm sorry..." I said, "I know, it was stupid, it was disrespectful, but if you think for a minute, you'll see that the results are good for you."

Tyrone laughed right in my face. "How much of my shit you been smoking, white boy? How exactly is this a good thing? Do you know what that much weed costs?!"

"A lot, I'm sure," I said, "but if we hadn't stolen it..."

"Then it'd still be mine!" Tyrone said.

"Exactly!", I said.

Tyrone glared. "You've got about five seconds to start making sense, kid."

"The _cops_ were out last night, Tyrone," I said. "They were on patrol all over, looking for the supplier. They arrested us, and ditching the stash is the only reason we're not in a cell right now. If we hadn't taken it, then it would have been you they caught with it. Think for a minute what would have happened then."

Tyrone scoffed. "Man, we can run from the cops!"

"And they can chase you," I said. "And if they had caught you, do you know how much you had in that bag? Almost a full pound. Sixteen ounces! That's _intent to distribute_. That's _hard time_. They'll take one look at you and figure they've found the supplier they're looking for."

Tyrone stepped closer, towering over me, and looked down to look me in the eyes. And when he did, I saw something curious. A lot of anger, but also something… trembling. Fearful. Of me?, I thought. No, I realized. Of himself. Of what he was about to do. Chico, and Chad moreso, had narrowed eyes, clenched fists, and murderous faces. They were absolutely ready to come to blows. But Tyrone, bigger and meaner than both of them, was struggling to _avoid_ a fight.

"So let me get this straight," he said. "You stole my shit, got busted for being a dumbass, threw it away to save your own skin, and you're telling me I should be grateful?"

I stood straight and tried to keep my voice calm. I looked Tyrone dead in the eyes, hoping I could stare right into his soul. "Do you want to hit me, Tyrone? Do you need to sock me in the gut to prove that you're big and bad? Do you want to show why you run this crew? If that's what you want, then go ahead and hit me. But that doesn't change anything. You screwed up, keeping a stockpile like that on you, and it was only our stupidity and your good luck that the consequences fell on us instead of you. Now, if you want to be a thug about it, then..."

Tyrone balled up a fist and threw it right at my stomach. I doubled over, clutching my gut, then fell to my hands and knees gasping and struggling for breath. Tyrone grabbed my by the back of my collar, hauled me to my feet, and shoved me back against the wall. Behind him, I saw Chad and Chico wincing. "Damn," Chico said softly.

Tyrone advanced until he was again in my face. "You got a big mouth, white boy, calling me a thug. I've got half a mind to show you just how much of a thug I can be, but that won't get me my stash back. Besides, if you're pussy enough to crumple from one shot like that, it won't be satisfying." He stabbed two fingers into the air an inch or so in front of my face. "I'll let you off easy this time. But don't you EVER talk to me like that again. Ever! In fact, I don't want to hear so much as a 'Hello' from you OR that blue-haired bitch for as long as we all live. Don't you talk to me, don't you come around my park, and don't you ever, EVER lay a finger on my stash again. You got it?"

I nodded, still clutching my stomach.

"Alright," Tyrone said. He took a step back. Turning to his lackeys, he said, "We done here." Tyrone walked to the door, Chico and Chad following obediently behind him. I heard the door open and close. Just before it slammed shut, I heard Chico speak. "Jesus, Tyrone, you could have busted his spleen..."

After they were gone, I took a deep breath to steady myself. My arm dropped to my side, as my stomach was actually feeling just fine. Tyrone hadn't actually hit me, after all. In the dimness of the alcove, it had looked like he did, but his fist had stopped about half an inch short of my skin. I hadn't been sure he would pick up the signals I had sent, but it had been worth a try, and it paid off.

When I'd seen that look in Tyrone's eyes, I had realized just how badly I'd misjudged him as a person. Tyrone was more than just Tyrone, he was also MC Gatt, aspiring rap star. As such, he cultivated a persona that got him respect in that community- tough, hard, mean. And he surrounded himself with lackeys to whom hard and mean was cool. To keep their respect, he had to live up to his reputation. At the same time, though, he knew it was an act. He understood there was a wide gulf between acting mean and being mean, and being mean had consequences. His crew didn't understand this; they thought mean meant strength and power. To them, bashing my face in was the obvious and right course of action. Hence Tyrone, leader of the pack, needed a way to satisfy their desire to look tough without actually being tough. Too far, and they'd all be in trouble. Too soft, and they'd doubt his worthiness. I offered him a way out, and he took it. Tyrone was a big fake, I had known that from the start. What I hadn't realized was that Tyrone _knew_ he was fake. He was able to assume this big, bad persona and yet still hold on to his real self.

I briefly wondered how Chico and Chad would get by without him, once graduation scattered the whole senior class to the winds. Would they be able to keep grounded by themselves, or would they keep trying to be tough and get wrecked without Tyrone to hold them back? But that was none of my business. My business with Tyrone had been concluded, on terms that ultimately benefited everyone. I mentally wished them all well, and went on with my own life.

I made my way out to the bleachers to meet up with Eve for lunch. I made it a point to clutch my stomach and look mildly uncomfortable along the way, just in case the rumor mill was watching. I don't know if they took note, but Eve certainly did. "You okay?" she asked between bites of a ham and cheese sandwich. "You look sick."

"I'm fine," I said, taking the seat next to her. "Just drama."

"What kind of drama?" Eve asked, concerned.

"I'll tell you later," I said. But when I faced Eve, she had a look of such worry in her eyes that I relented. "I ran into Tyrone, and he wasn't happy about what happened to his stash."

Eve gasped. "Shit! Did he hit you?!"

"No," I said, "but if anybody asks, say he did,"

Eve raised her eyebrow, perplexed. "Why?"

"Because he _did_ have to pretend to hit me to keep his tough guy rep. And I have to maintain the illusion until at least the end of lunch. And we've been banished from his sight forevermore, so no more drawing by the fountain," I said while unpacking my lunch. The plastic sandwich bag opened with a satisfying pop. "On the bright side," I continued, "it looks like it's the end of this particular drama."

"Here's hoping," Eve said. She sighed and looked off into the middle distance. "God, what a week it's been."

"More high school than usual," I agreed.

"Yeah," she said, not looking at me. "And most of it my fault."

I groaned. "Come on, Eve, don't be like that. At the end of it all, I'm fine, you're fine, nobody got hurt. Maybe we made some mistakes, sure, but we'll learn from them. It was an adventure, and I'm glad we could share it."

Eve snickered. "Oh, so we've gone from Bonnie and Clyde to wizard and warrior, now?"

I shrugged. "Well, you'd make a good wizard. You rock the hooded cloak look already. I think I'm more of a gallant rogue, though."

"Gallant, huh?", Eve said skeptically.

I gave her my best Han Solo grin. Eve smiled back. "Well, I suppose you could manage it," she said. "At a bit of a stretch, maybe." Before I could say anything, she added: "Oh, by the way, Aaron, did I tell you about Grace's thing tomorrow?"

"Ah…," I said, caught off guard, "no, you didn't, what thing?"

"Well," she said, "Odette's tattoo gun broke, and Grace can't afford a replacement because… umm…," she brushed her hair back and bit her lip. Because she spent that money bailing her little sister out of jail, obviously. "Anyway," Eve continued, "she made some calls, and was able to borrow one from an old friend from tattoo school, in exchange for taking her out to dinner to catch up. So she and Odette are doing that tomorrow night, and they'll be out late."

"So you'll be home alone?", I asked, having an idea where this was going.

"Yeah, looks like it. And, you know, it'll be lonely and a little creepy being in the house all by myself. So, um…," she turned to me with a small smile. "you doing anything?"


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

AND I BLEED WHEN I FALL DOWN

5 P.M. Saturday, that was the time we arranged to meet up. I wasn't asked to stop off for Chinese takeout, but I did anyway. It was my turn. I was in good spirits, humming a tune to myself as I sauntered up the road. But as I approached Sugar Tats, I heard yelling. Angry yelling. Ahead, the garage door stood open. The ruckus was coming from inside- a broad collection of insults and profanities, in Grace's voice. Was Eve in trouble again? Fearing the worst, I ran the last few steps.

When the inside of the garage came into view, I saw Eve standing off to the side, worried but unthreatened. I exhaled a sigh of relief. On the other end of the garage, a greasy, dirty Grace raged at her motorcycle, yelling and waving metal tools around while Odette lingered over her shoulder, attempting to console her.

"Fucking fuck-shit piece of fuck motorcycle!" Grace railed, bashing a wrench on the concrete floor to emphasize the point. She jumped to her feet and kicked the disobedient machine, which tipped over.

"Grace, honey...", Odette said.

Grace whirled on her. "Don't be all 'Grace honey' with me. This is bullshit! Is it not bullshit?!" she turned to me, of all people. "Is this not bullshit, Aaron?! Every day I ride this bike, and every fucking day it fucking starts. Sometimes it grumps a little, but it always starts! But today, today of all days, when I actually fucking need it to fucking _get_ somewhere I can't take the bus to, today of all days it decides to fuck off and fucking break on me! Today! How am I going to fucking get to Julia's if my bike picks fucking today to break the fuck down!" She paused, breathing heavily, and after a moment looked straight at me. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"Uhh..." I said, meekly holding up the bag of takeout. "Bringing dinner?"

Grace stared at me, uncomprehending.

Approaching Grace from behind, Odette calmly took the wrench from her and spoke in a firm, motherly voice. "Grace, dear, why don't you take a walk around the block to cool down, and then call Julia to reschedule our little meeting?"

"Don't order me around, Odette," Grace said, "you're not..."

"Grace?" Odette said warningly.

"You're not...", Grace began.

"Graaaaaaaaace?" Odette said, giving her a stern look.

Grace opened and closed her mouth a few times, finding no words, then finally stormed out of the garage with a growl. We all watched her go.

"So, uhh… I guess dinner plans are off, then?", I asked.

"Postponed, at the very least," Odette said. She tossed the wrench on the couch with the sigh of a frayed woman and put her hands on her hips. "But you know, Grace raises an intriguing point. What _are_ you doing here, Aaron?"

"Ah…," Eve cut in. "That's on me. I invited him over."

Odette raised an eyebrow. "On the night we'd planned to spend out," she noted.

"Um… yeah," Eve said, pulling her hood close.

"To do what?", Odette asked.

"Nothing," we both said. Too quickly. Odette was unconvinced.

"Evie, honey," Odette said, "I know you don't have much experience dating guys, but just hanging out at home every time is lame. You should go out somewhere- the movies, a concert, hell even the mall!"

"Well, this is cheaper," Eve said. "And we don't need someone to drive us."

"Oh?" Odette said. She gave Eve a sideways look, then looked at me and nodded knowingly. It was a moment before I realized that Eve had not denied this was a date. I glanced over to see her blushing furiously.

"A-Anyway!", Eve stammered. "It's no big deal, we were just going to have dinner and then watch some movies on the couch."

"And…?" Odette said.

"And… and that's it," Eve said.

Odette gave her a 'yeah, right' look.

Eve looked down at her feet and scuffed her sneakers against the floor. "And… maybe… have a few beers out of the fridge?"

Odette sighed and shook her head. "What movies?"

"Um…", Eve withdrew a pair of DVD cases from her jacket pocket. _Prom Night_ and _13 Ghosts_, I noticed.

Odette nodded approvingly. "Hmm. Well, Evie honey, I give you a B+ on your setup."

"What…?", Eve said.

Odette smiled. "Horror movies on the couch, nobody else home, excuse to cuddle up and be held during the scary parts- parts that get the blood moving. Almost foolproof."

Eve's eyes went wide. "It- it's not like that! Oh my god, Odette! Do you ever think of anything but..."

"Buuuuuuuuut..." Odette cut her off. "Getting him drunk too? Overkill. And not a good risk, in my opinion. Chance of getting too sloshed to perform, chance of morning-after regret, not to mention it's illegal at your age. Especially with Grace already pissed at you for your recent brush with the law, and double especially because those are MY beers in the fridge!" She yelled that last bit.

"Hey, it's okay…," I cut in. "I don't drink anyway, so..."

"Quiet, you!", Odette snapped. "This is girl talk!"

I'm pretty sure this was not what they usually call "girl talk", but I clammed up anyway.

Eve sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry," she said.

Odette put her hand on Eve's shoulder. "Oh, it's alright, Evie," she said sardonically. "It just makes it easier."

Eve looked at Odette strangely. "Makes what easier?"

"This," Odette said, and snatched the DVDs right out of Eve's hands. "You're plan was good, so I'm hijacking it. When Grace gets back, she and I will be claiming the couch. Hang out in your room if you want."

"But… why?", Eve stammered.

"Why do you think?", Odette said suggestively.

Eve threw up her hands in frustration. "When are you going to learn, Odette? She's not into you like that!" She grabbed at the DVDs, but Odette yanked them away. Eve tried again, and Odette pulled them away again, this time holding them high over her head, where Eve couldn't reach. Eve fumed. "Odie!," she whined. "This is some grade school shit!"

"Well, I'm feeling nostalgic," Odette said. "Play along, and I won't let your big sister in on the fact that you planned to drink underage."

"You have no right…," Eve insisted.

"Sorry, I'm invoking the law of the asshole," Odette said, cutting her off.

"What the hell is that?", Eve asked.

"It means that I do it because I want to, and if you don't like it, you get to call me an asshole," Odette said with a smirk.

"That's bullshit!", Eve protested.

Odette shrugged. "Call me an asshole."

Eve yelled. "I want my DVDs back!"

"Call me an asshole," Odette said, walking to the stairs.

* * *

"Odette is such an asshole," Eve said, biting into an egg roll like it was Odette's flesh.

"Yeah, kinda…," I said, finishing the last of my fried rice. Eve's room made a serviceable dining room, but only just. There were two seats- the desk chair and the bed. I didn't feel I had the propriety to claim the chair, and didn't want to get crumbs on the bed, so I ate sitting on the floor with a plate in my lap. Eve sat on the bed, leaning over the edge so that she wouldn't get crumbs on the sheets either. Through the walls I heard the loud boom of the sound effects on the TV. The walls kept out the sound of the dialogue, but the lower end of the register was a constant distraction. "Is she normally like this?"

"What, you mean a total bitch?", Eve said.

"Not a bitch," I corrected.

"Only when she hasn't gotten fucked in too long," Eve finished.

"Is trying to bed your sister part of that too?", I asked.

"Nah, that's just Odette being Odette," Eve said. She tossed the last bite of egg roll into her mouth and spoke while chewing. "She's had a low-level crush on Grace for as long as they've known each other, and every once and a while she tries to take it someplace."

"Oh," I said. "Do you think she'll actually… um… get there tonight?"

Eve laughed. "Aaron, let me tell you something about my sister: you sit her down on a couch to watch a movie, and she'll watch it as long as she has something to munch while she's watching. Once the food's gone, she has about half an hour before she gets comfortable and falls asleep. Doesn't matter how good or how loud or how funny it is, she's out like a light. And if she's had a drink or two, pffft. Forget it. The end result here is Grace dead to the world while Odette stews over it and hits the bottle until she's drunk as a skunk."

"Ah," I said. "Well hey, maybe that'll be our opportunity to take back the couch?"

She shook her head. "Nah. This is fine, actually, the fun stuff's all in here anyway. I just hoped to have some beer."

"Do you, uh… drink a lot?", I asked.

"Only once or twice ever, actually. I hated the taste, and Odette's example put me off drunkenness as a pastime. It's just that I thought I'd need..." she trailed off.

"Need what?", I asked.

"Nothing, it's nothing." She pulled her hood closer and stared at the last little bit of fried rice on her plate. I noticed belatedly that she still had her hood up; I'd assumed she was comfortable having her hood down in her room.

"Something on your mind?", I asked.

"A few things," she said, moving food around with a fork before deciding to just lay the plate aside on the floor. "Anyway, Odie's getting nowhere. She'll just have to accept that not everybody is bisexual like her."

I shrugged.

"Grace is straight as an arrow. Yeah," Eve added. "Yeah," she repeated.

"You sound a bit uncertain," I noted.

Eve nearly jumped. "No, no, I mean it! I just, umm..." she blushed suddenly.

"What?", I asked.

She dodged my gaze "Well, I just… thought you might have some kind of a reaction to that."

I shrugged. "It's none of my business, really. I mean, it doesn't freak me out or anything, if that's what worries you."

"Mmm," Eve nodded, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. "does it arouse you?"

I looked at her to see if she was joking. I got mixed signals; her smile said she was, but her eyes were serious. Weird. "Well, uh… not really…," I said.

"Not ever?", Eve said teasingly. "I mean, I know about boys and their internet porn…"

My face was starting to burn a little. "Well... it uh... shows up in my searches on the adult sites sometimes, but it never held that much interest for me. Why do you ask? Are you into girls?"

"Um!", Eve said, almost jumping. "Well, I've never really met a girl I wanted to be intimate with… but, you know… if I met somebody with the right personality… I guess I might. How about you?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Do you think you could be attracted to another guy?", Eve asked bluntly.

How did we get on this topic of conversation? _Why_ did we get on this topic of conversation?

"I, uh… never really thought about it," I said.

Silence.

"Well, then?", Eve said.

"Well, what?", I asked.

"Think about it," she said with a mischievous smile.

"Uh… okay," I said.

Silence again.

"Well…?", Eve insisted.

"Uh, I meant I'll think about it later…," I said.

Eve giggled. "Oh come on, Aaron, this is hardly fair! I answered your question, now answer mine!"

"Hey," I said, "This shit is a lot more taboo for guys than it is for girls, okay?"

"Why?", she asked.

"I don't know, I don't make these rules! I just try not to get smacked around by them," I insisted.

Eve laughed again. When she finished, there was silence yet again.

I sighed. "Serious answer?"

"Go ahead," Eve said.

"All I can say is I've never met a guy that I wanted to… you know… get with. But, when I think about it, I've never met a girl I wanted to seriously get with either. I mean, I've seen girls that get me… you know… hot… but never for longer than until I saw another hot girl. Except for..." I looked at Eve, who looked back at me with a very serious, very apprehensive look. I couldn't say it. I turned away. "-except for one. And she wouldn't have me."

"Oh," Eve said.

A long pause.

"But you know…," I said. "I guess you could say that makes me undeclared or something. You never know." I turned to her with a wicked grin. "Why, you know some smoking hot guy you want me to make gay porn with? Maybe Kevin?"

Eve's eyes went wide with shock. Then she laughed. "No, no, that's not my thing!"

"Are you sure?," I said. "I know some of you girls are into it. Especially the anime fangirls."

Eve shook her head no and waved her arms around negatively. "No! Not me!"

I chuckled. "Oh, doesn't feel so good to be on the receiving end, does it?"

"Fuck you, Aaron!", she said, still laughing.

"Well, you must be worked up about something," I said, "because your cheeks are beet red."

Eve grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over her face to hide.

We both laughed about it for a bit before settling down. When we did, we wound up looking at each other, smiling.

"Hey," Eve said, patting the mattress. "Come up here."

As I took the seat beside her, she leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved a sketchbook. She opened it to the most recent page and handed it to me. "Check it out."

I took a look. On the page was a colored pencil drawing of two people, a man and a woman. The woman was another of Eve's self-portraits. The blue hair gave it away. But it was a lot more down to earth than her past works. Her bust was less prominent, and didn't distract as much. She was dressed in a dress and early-20th century beret, held a large-caliber handgun, and had a mean look on her face. She stood back-to-back with a slightly taller man in a pinstriped suit and fedora hat. The man held a tommy gun, which he aimed off-page to the right. He looked vaguely familiar, and after a moment I realized it was meant to be me. Eve and I as a pair of stylish depression-era criminals.

"This is us," I said.

Eve nodded.

"Hah," I said, smiling. "Bonnie and Clyde, played by Eve and Aaron."

"Do you like it?", she asked nervously.

"Hell, yeah! We're totally badass!", I enthused.

Eve made a half-laughing, half squealing sound. On the internet they call it "squee."

"Thanks!" she said. "I'm really proud of this one! I don't really know where it came from, honestly. I was just kinda doodling and thinking of you, and… well…. Inspiration struck. But I just love how it turned out!"

"It's good! It's real good! I think you really captured us. See, I told you you'd look good in a dress!", I said.

Eve laughed merrily.

"Think Miss Ross will accept it?", I asked.

Eve shook her head. "It's not for her, Aaron. It's for you."

I blinked. "For… for me?"

"I, uhh…," she looked aside for a minute, bashfully, then returned her gaze to mine. "I want you to have something to… just… something that shows what you mean to me."

I smiled. I didn't know what to say.

"I mean...", Eve continued. "It's just the whole romance of the outlaw couple, you know? I mean, the reality is not so great- the reality is they die young in a hail of bullets. But the romance is…," she gestured randomly, searching for the right word.

"Freedom," I said. "Taking to the road, nobody else but just one special person to watch your back. Nobody else to tell you what to do, or care what they think."

"You and me against the world," Eve said. She looked down, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "I know it's kind of silly… I mean, stuff like that never works out in real life. But even so…"

I interrupted her. "I'd do it," I said. Eve looked at me with surprise.

"I would," I said. "If that's what you really, really wanted- forget school, forget college, forget family dramas and money problems and everything else and just steal some poor loser's car and run away to the open road… it wouldn't be a happy life. It would be… hard, nasty, brutal, and short. But even so, if I could do it with you… maybe it would be worth it."

Eve stared at me, mouth open. Then she laughed, turned aside, brushed her hair aside. "Aaron… that's..."

But she couldn't put it into words. So she just sat there, looking straight into my eyes. Her own eyes glimmered blue, and she had a sweet, almost blissful smile on. I smiled back at her. Our gazes locked on each other for an eternal second.

A feeling passed between us. An impulse, unspoken but impossible to misunderstand. I was suddenly conscious of the soft warmth of Eve's hand resting on mine. When had it gotten there?

I don't know who started leaning in first. But I remember our faces moving closer. Closer. Closer still. Her face grew larger and larger in my eyes, until it was all I could see. I felt my lips parting slightly on reflex, and Eve's in response. Her lips glistened. Mine were moist. My heart was pounding. Eve smelled of flowers and soap. Closer. And closer. My eyes inched closed, until I was blind, nothing but the sound of Eve's breath and the touch of that same breath on my lips. So close. I waited. I waited with my heart coiled around itself like a spring, with time slowed to a crawl…

But nothing happened.

And when my eyes blinked open, I saw Eve withdrawing. Her hand left it's perch on my own like a songbird flying away. She clapped that hand over her mouth, squeezed her eyes shut in agony, and shook her head no.

"What's wrong?", I asked, searching my thoughts for a possible reason. "Is it… is it my breath?" I blew into my hand to smell it.

Eve laughed. But the laugh was hollow. Again, she shook her head no. "No. No, Aaron, it's not that. It's…" she trailed off. After taking a breath to steady herself, she sidled back to sit cross-legged at the very edge of the bed. "Aaron, there's some stuff you should know about me."

I hiked my legs up on the bed and mirrored her cross-legged pose. "Go ahead," I said gently. "I'm all ears."

"Well…," she began. Then she hesitated. Maybe not sure where to start. "Did I ever tell you how my parents died?"

I shook my head no.

"We were in a car wreck," she said. "A really bad one."

"We?", I asked.

She nodded. "I was there. In the car with them. My parents… we had a difficult relationship. In fact, they hated me. They hated… they hated the decisions I made, the things I did, the things I wanted to do." She spoke slowly, with frequent hesitation. These recollections were clearly painful. "They always thought I was living my life wrong. They told me that I was stupid, that I was nuts, that I was doing it to spite them. They never understood, never _tried_ to understand..." she was getting choked up. I reached out to take her hand, as I had many times before, but she waved it off and composed herself.

"That night in the car…," Eve continued, "I don't remember where we were heading. It must have been someplace I didn't want to go, because we got into a shouting match, all three of us. They got on to how I was… making all these mistakes, that I would ruin my life just like Grace. And I yelled at them, Grace wasn't ruined. And they yelled back… something, I was barely listening, but I yelled right back at them, as loud as I could, 'Grace doesn't need you, and neither do I! We'll be better off without you! I wish you would just die!' A-And then..." She clenched her eyes shut, sniffled and swallowed hard.

"And that's right when the other car hit us. Ran a red light and smashed right into the driver's door. I remember… it all happened so fast. I saw the light from his headlights, heard a car horn blaring, and then… there was a crashing sound, the car's frame crumpled, I screamed, then we were spinning around, rolling, I remember when we came to rest the car was upside-down, I was hanging from my seatbelt, there was blood… everywhere, all over everything..." She stopped. She was silent for a long time. Eve was hurting so bad inside to recall this, and I wanted to say something, do something, but I had nothing. She had watched her parents die. You can't play that off with a lame joke.

"Two dead on site. My dad, and the other driver. Mom died on the way to the hospital. I was the only survivor. I had a crack in my skull and a concussion. I was unconscious for two days, when I came to I was in the hospital, hooked up to those bleeping machines. I saw Grace sitting by my bedside, and as soon as she saw me open my eyes her face lit up. She called for the doctor, told me I was going to be okay. And then I asked her 'Where's Mom? Where's Dad?' And she just froze up, and broke down crying, and..." Eve brought her hand to her face, fighting back the tears. "And you know what the worst part is? When they told me that my parents were dead, the first thing I felt..."

Eve choked on her words, and was silent for a very long time. When she did speak, it was a tiny squeak barely higher than a whisper:

"I was glad."

And now the dam broke, and the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She sobbed and sniffled and tried to go on, her body and her voice shaking. "The first thought through my head was that finally, finally I wouldn't have to deal with them hating me, judging me anymore. And then a second later I was like 'What am I thinking? What kind of monster am I?', and I felt horrible, but I couldn't forget it." She looked straight at me, and my expression must have been stunned. "Can you tell me that's not horrible, Aaron? Can you look me straight in the eye and tell me that's not fucked up?"

I was a long time answering. I wanted to tell her something reassuring… but all that came out was the truth.

"No," I said. "No, I can't. It _is_ fucked up."

Eve lost what remained of her composure, and bend over double, weeping freely, her body curled almost into a ball. She sobbed, and I could do nothing about it.

"But Eve, everybody has trouble with their parents," I told her.

Eve shook her head. "It's not the same, Aaron. It's not..."

"Yes it is!", I interrupted her. "The specifics change, sure, but the problem is always the same: they want us to grow up happy, but they don't understand what happiness means. So they badger and berate and try to mold us into something that's their idea of what we should be, when all we want to do is live our lives on our own terms. My dad..." I stopped short. Bury the past, I thought. Bury the past. Bury it.

But when I saw Eve looking at me expectantly, I knew I couldn't keep silent.

"My Dad… I loved him. And since he died, I've been trying to forget him. I've told myself it was so I could move on, but the truth of it is… Eve, my dad was a good man, and he was a good father, or at least he tried to be. But it's also his fault that Mom and I are in the state we are today. Not because of how he died, but because of how he lived. He wanted us to be happy, and the way he did that was by buying things. He was really into the whole 'keeping up with the Joneses' lifestyle, our house was just full of status symbols and expensive crap. That was happiness, to him. It was having all the stuff that made the neighbors jealous. But it all cost money, and he got most of it through debt. Credit cards, car loans, mortgage, second mortgage to redo the house. And he kept it all from us. We never realized just how far we were living beyond our means. Maybe he thought that once he got that raise, that promotion, whatever, he'd be able to pay it off.

"And then he got sick, and… he died slow. He died really, really slow. He wasted away, day after day, every day a little weaker, a little worse. All that time, the money that was supposed to go to the debt was going to hospital bills instead. It was a death spiral, and by the time we even realized it was happening, everything was already gone. Mom and I, we're basically broke right now, living off Aunt Diane's charity, and there's still a lot of debt left over. All that... stuff. All the happy memories of fun with it, time we'd all spent together, the three of us, all of it evaporated. And I have to wonder, did it ever really make us happy, or were we just blissfully ignorant of how shallow it all was? Fake happiness?"

I ran my hands through my hair and sighed deeply. "I loved my Dad, Eve. But if I'm honest, I also hate him. Hate him for leaving us with such a mess. Hate him for showing us the good life and then taking it away with him and leaving us with the bill. Hate him because I'm stuck cleaning up after his mistakes. Hate him most of all because I trusted him to take care of us. To be a dad."

I turned to Eve, who was looking at me without knowing what to say. "Eve, what I'm trying to say is... it's not your fault that your parents are dead. And if it's wrong for you to despise them, then everybody else in the world is just as wrong. We all have to deal with the fallout of our parents' mistakes. And we all wind up hating them for it. That doesn't make you a monster, Eve. It makes you a human being."

Eve shook her head. "Aaron… it's not the same."

"You didn't kill your parents, Eve," I said. "It was just a crazy accident."

Eve tried to interrupt me. "Aaron, it's not..."

"They happen every day, all over the world- people die for no reason…"

"You don't understand..."

"Of course I don't!", I snapped, startling her into silence. "I _can't_ understand, Eve! I don't know your parents, I never even met them! I wasn't there. But I am _here_. And what I see here and now is a beautiful, confident, sensitive, passionate young woman. The most beautiful woman in the world! And you have nothing to be ashamed of, Eve. Nothing! Not because you smoke weed or pull pranks or get into trouble or whatever it is they didn't want you doing. All of it, even the ugly bits, they only make you more beautiful. More real. More _Eve_. If your parents couldn't see it, then they're the ones who were wrong!"

Eve sat there, looking at me, her lips trembling. "Aaron… you don't get it. It's none of that. There's… there's something wrong with me, maybe not wrong, but if you knew it… you'd hate me."

I shook my head. "I could never hate you, Eve. Never."

"You would, Aaron," she said. "You really would."

"Try me," I dared.

Eve was still for a moment, just looking at me, considering risks, weighing outcomes. Then she broke my gaze and hung her head. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I slumped backwards, catching myself on my hands before I could collapse on the bed. Stared up at the ceiling. Useless. "God, Eve, I wish I could show you how beautiful you really are. I wish I could show you how you look through my eyes."

Eve said nothing. We just sat there, both of us, slowly drowning in an impotence of silence.

Abruptly, a look of realization crossed Eve's face. "Maybe you can," she said.

I sat up and watched as she rummaged through some things beneath the foot of the bed. After finding a small pencil case, she sat up, took her sketchbook, and handed pad and pencils to me.

"Draw me," Eve said.

I hesitated. "Um… are you sure? I mean… it's been awhile, I'm probably not as good as I used to be..."

"Try," Eve said.

"Well…," I said. "Okay, I'll give it my best."

I'd done okay in art class, but that had been last year. And I didn't have the passion for it that Eve did- I couldn't possibly equal her work. What if I made her look ugly, and myself like an idiot?

Eve sat across from me, looking at me straight on. I took a sharpened charcoal pencil from the case, and cautiously sketched a rough outline of Eve's head. I looked back up at her and considered. "Sorry, but can I ask you something?"

"What is it?", she replied.

"Could you take down your hood?" I said.

She hesitated, a nervous look in her eyes.

"It's just that it's difficult to draw someone with their face obscured. Plus, well… I think you look pretty with your hair down," I said with a small smile.

She returned my smile. After a moment's further hesitation, she drew the hood down. She also smoothed out her hair a bit, so that it fell around her shoulders.

"Turn, um..." I said, gesturing over my shoulder. "Not, like, profile, but..."

"Like this?" she said, turning her head slightly.

"Perfect," I said. "Just hold it like that."

An amateur artist, somewhat out of practice, drawing a portrait of an aspiring professional for her own critique, is a whole lot of pressure! But as Miss Ross used to say, I didn't have to invent the image, just draw what I saw. And seeing Eve there, with bright eyes and waves of hair and a small smile, sincere yet vulnerable, I was inspired. I called up what I'd learned last year and put it to work. It didn't have to be a perfect likeness, it just had to represent her as I saw her.

It took only a few minutes to sketch an image of Eve's head and shoulders. I held it up, compared it to the subject, and saw that it was good. Well, acceptable, at least.

"Finished," I said. "And I think I did pretty well, if I do say so myself."

"Okay," Eve said. "Let me see, then."

I passed it over. She took it and looked. In her face I saw first surprise, then disbelief, than perplexity. "Aaron…," she said, "this… this isn't me. It looks nothing like me."

I took out my phone, put it in selfie mode, and passed it over to her. "Look at it next to the original," I suggested.

She took the phone and looked at herself in it, like a mirror. Looked back and forth from one to the other several times. Tilted her head so that the phone would reflect her from the proper angle. She blinked as the truth came into focus. "How… how did you do that?," she asked. "How could you see that?"

"I just looked," I said softly. "And then I drew what I saw. That's you. That's Eve. The lovely woman I see whenever I look at you. The only person who can't see it is you."

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She hugged the sketchbook to her chest, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. "Aaron… Aaron, you're..."

The sentence hung in the air, unfinished. Finally, Eve took in a large breath, and let it out. She laid aside the phone and sketchbook. Wiped the tears off on her sleeves. Clasped her hands together in front of her, eyes closed, still smiling, almost like a prayer. "Don't freak out," she said. "Don't freak out..."

I had no idea what was going through her head right then. But with knowledge of what came next, I can imagine her thinking that she would have to share this with somebody, sometime. And if not me, if not here, if not now, then when?

Taking another breath, she got up from the bed. I moved to follow her, but she stopped me. "No, just sit," she said. I took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Eve moved a few steps away, then turned to face me. "Aaron…," she said. "The other day, when I told you I wanted to just be friends… the truth is…." She stopped. Apparently, it sounded wrong. After a moment to gather her thoughts, she started again: "Aaron… ever since I've known you, I…." But that, too, didn't sound quite right. Embarrassed, she turned around, to face away from me, and caught her breath again. She was shaking all over.

"Aaron…," Eve said, "I want you to see me."

There was the sound of a zipper being drawn down.

"I want you to see _all_ of me," she said.

Eve's iconic cat-eared hoodie slid down her arms and fell to the floor. Behind it was a light gray tank-top that exposed her arms up to the shoulders. Her voice trembled with what was either nerves, anticipation, or- most likely- both. "So… just sit there," she said. "Don't move. Don't speak. Just let me show you."

Obediently, I sat bolt-still and said nothing. Eve took hold of the top and pulled it out of her jeans, before lifting it over her head. She wore a plain bra, light blue, underneath. Below it, her back was smooth and unblemished. She dropped the top to the floor, then took a second to straighten her hair. As I watched, she fumbled to unhook the bra. When she got it, it slid off her shoulders to the floor. Slowly, she turned around, as if on a turntable, letting me see her exposed chest. As she turned, her eyes fell on me…

And she brought her hand to her mouth to restrain a sudden laugh. She hadn't expected to see me topless when she turned.

"Well, I didn't feel right sitting here fully-clothed while you'd be naked," I said.

Eve smiled. "You're sweet, Aaron."

"I try," I said. "So, what do you think?" I said, puffing out my chest, arms akimbo. I wasn't exactly centerfold material, I knew. I didn't work out, and it showed, though I wasn't pudgy either. I had a small tuft of hair in the center of my chest, largely because shaving it just made it itch until it grew back.

"Mmm," Eve said, "Not too bad. Not like I can complain, I mean…," she gestured at her bust. Her breasts were, as she feared, rather small. But they were shapely, and the stomach beneath them was slim and fit, showing neither bone nor bulge. Pleasing to the eye. My eyes, anyway. It was getting the blood moving. To places that should be obvious.

"They're petite," I told her, "But that's not bad. Watermelons on a slim figure like yours would look weird. You need the right breasts, not the biggest ones, and those are… pretty close to right, I'd say."

She giggled and brushed aside a stray lock of hair, before biting her lip. "There's… there's more," she said.

I nodded and drew an invisible zipper across my lips.

Eve leaned down to take off her shoes. She leaned far enough to give me a good view of how her breasts looked when dangling. She undid the laces easily, and then sock and sneaker came off at once. One foot, and then the other. Then she turned her attention to her jeans. The belt unbuckled easily. The button was just as simple. Her hand touched the zipper, and she hesitated. After a moment, she turned around again, giving me a view of her from behind. There was sound of a zipper opening, and then she slid her pants off. Light blue panties wrapping a small bottom came into view. _Tight_, I thought. _Tight is good_. She slid the jeans all the way to the floor, again leaning forward to give me the best possible view.

After stepping out of her jeans she stood, still bent over, with her legs pressed tightly against each other. An awkward pose, I thought. I heard her take a breath. "Okay," she said, to reassure herself. "Okay…." Without pausing, she took hold of her panties and slid them off the same way. Bare girl-ass was before me, the curves flowed into her slim, pressed-together legs to give it the shape of a heart. I am not an ass man, but tight was most _definitely_ good.

Finally she stood upright, still facing away from me. She held her hands over her crotch, despite the fact that she was already facing away from me. Suddenly, she was trembling again. "Sorry," she said. "Just… give me a second. This is the hardest part." Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep, bracing breath. She slid one leg to the side, and then, too quickly for second thoughts, she spun around, throwing her hands wide in a gesture that said "ta-da!" But if she felt like saying something like that, she couldn't. I noticed her face first, and there was no "ta-da!" there either, just an apprehensive look. Her body was tense, all over. Not understanding, I nevertheless traced my gaze down her body, through the hills of her perfectly proportioned bust and the flat, easy plains of her stomach and around the small bud of her navel to…

I blinked.

A puzzled expression came over my face and I blinked again. That was… unexpected. That was not how a girl is supposed to look naked.

"Uh…," I said, uncomprehending. "Is that, uhh..."

Eve's voice was shaking. "A- A penis. Yes, it's… that's what it is." She swallowed hard.

I looked again. That was a penis. I hadn't seen very many in real life, but that was definitely what it was. On Eve. A girl. My mouth hung open. I tried to speak, to say something, but I couldn't. My brain had locked up. Does not compute.

"Is… is it… okay?", Eve stammered. "Is… is it ugly? Is it gross? Is it…? Aaron…?"

I didn't know what to say. My mind ran itself in circles. My jaw flapped, but no words at all came out.

Eve looked back at me, anxiety rising in her face like a pot in the process of boiling over. "Aaron… Aaron please, don't… don't look at me like… Aaron, you… you have to…", she clapped her hands over her face. "Oh my god… Oh my god, Aaron, I… I'm sorry. I didn't… I shouldn't… I knew this was a bad idea. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just…," Her voice was frantic, approaching the point of panic. I wanted to go to her but I was frozen, paralyzed by confusion and indecision. "Aaron, I'm sorry," she said, backing up, eyes darting to the bathroom door. "I just… I thought… Aaron, please Aaron, just… don't hate me."

It happened in a second, in a space between seconds even. Eve turned and tried to bolt for the bathroom, and the next thing I knew I was on my feet, holding her by her arm. I didn't remember rising from the bed. I remember I said something, probably her name. She looked at me with a look somewhere between agony and absolute terror, her still-beating heart balanced on a razor's edge. I didn't understand. None of this made sense. The room was spinning. Up was down and in was out.

I looked straight into Eve's eyes- into those shimmering, shining, beautiful blue wishing-well eyes. I didn't understand anything, but from out of those eyes I drew the one thing I knew with absolute, unquestionable certainty.

I loved Eve.

I. Loved. Eve.

That idea became my northstar. The stable and immutable point amidst the spinning circles of the cosmos. The bright beacon by which I could navigate my way home.

I loved Eve.

I lunged forward and kissed her. Kissed her full on the lips with everything in my heart and soul.

Does a kiss have a language? Can it speak? It's an idea I'd never considered, but in this kiss Eve spoke to me in a language that defied words. At first there was panic, shock, fear. That faded in a moment. Then there was conflict, a primal need to flee battling against a yearning desire to stay. The accumulated anxiety of a hundred awful memories and a thousand but-what-ifs. This dissolved, slowly. I drank in her pains through that kiss and purified them, feeding them back to her as tiny, unspoken reassurances. Then there was cautious, trembling desire, a need that compelled her hands to hold my face, and mine to hers. And finally, there was peace. The tension in her muscles melted away, until they reached a state of relaxation. There was calm. Serenity.

Belonging.

We parted, and I looked on her. The world was no longer spinning. The room was still, and my feet were steady on the ground. Eve's face filled my field of vision, more beautiful than I'd ever seen her before. Her cheeks were warm, her hair smelled of flowers, and I could still taste her lips on my own.

"It's okay," I told her. "You surprised me, that's all. I wasn't expecting it, and for a minute I didn't know what to do. But that's okay. Loving somebody… it means letting them surprise you. And now, I guess it's my turn to surprise you. To surprise both of us, really. Eve… I don't care."

I didn't realize how beautiful those words sounded until I said them. They made me giddy. I actually laughed. "I don't care," I repeated. "I absolutely, positively do not care! I don't! It…," I took a breath to regain my composure. Eve had tears in her eyes, but not sad ones. "It wasn't your body I fell in love with, Eve. It was you. The beautiful woman under the skin."

The tears started running in rivers from her eyes. "Aaron!" she cried, and threw her arms around me. She held me, and I held her in return. We held each other so tight, it felt like we would never let go. Her body was soft and warm against mine. She sobbed into my ear. "Aaron," she said. "Aaron, I love you! You're so wonderful! I...", but she couldn't put it into words. It didn't matter. Words weren't needed, now. After she withdrew I wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her face was ecstatically giddy. I felt almost lightheaded myself.

We kissed again. But this was a simpler kiss. It was hot and breathtaking. Passionate. Primal. Desirous. This time, when we parted, our mouths hung open. I felt her breaths on my lips, and those breaths were sultry, heavy, and deep. Eve pursed her lips, moistening them, and there was a suggestive glint in her eyes.

"Say," I said, with a probably-goofy grin on my face. "Could I, uh…"

But I didn't get a chance to finish that question.

The loud bang of a door slamming against a wall announced an intruder. Eve and I hurriedly separated. She screamed, covering her chest and crotch awkwardly. I covered my own crotch as well, before realizing I still had pants on. Odette stumbled into room, looking queasy and holding a bottle of liquor in her hand. "Clear the way!", she said. Odette blundered and crashed her way towards the bathroom. Once there, she tripped over her feet, fell to the floor, and hurriedly bent over the rim of the tub.

"Odette, that's not the toilet…!", Eve said. Too late, as Odette vomited into the bathtub, ruining the mat.

Suddenly, Grace burst into the bedroom, looking like she'd just woken up. "Eve! I heard you scream, what… whoa!" Seeing us, she quickly stumbled backwards, turning to the wall, and Eve and I, both startled, jumped again.

"What the hell, Grace?!", Eve said.

"What the hell, me?," Grace replied. "What the hell, you! You're bare-ass naked with… What the hell, Aaron?!"

I had no idea how to answer. "What the hell… What the hell, Odette, that's what the hell! What the...",

"What the hell, YOU?!", Grace insisted.

"What the hell, YOU TOO?!", I threw back. "What..."

From the bathroom, Odette interrupted. "What the hell, everyon-uuuuuuuurgh..." Again she leaned over the tub and there was the wet splatter of vomit. "Beer before liquor, amirite? Should have known better. Urp!" She covered her mouth, unsure if another round of upchuck was coming.

* * *

With the mood killed deader than disco and a sloppily drunk goth girl now in the mix, I decided I'd better go. Eve and I both dressed, then Grace asked Eve to look after Odette while she let me out. I wanted to kiss Eve goodbye, but Grace was all but dragging me out of the room. So instead I waved from across the room and promised to text her later.

Minutes later, we stood in the garage. Grace took hold of the door handle, but didn't turn it.

"Are we okay?", I asked.

Grace let go of the handle and turned to address me. Her voice was firm, but even. "My sister is a grown woman. She has to make her own decisions. My job, as the closest thing to a parent she has left, is not to make sure she's happy, but to make sure she survives, physically and mentally. I'd ask if you're going to make my job difficult, but your answer wouldn't be honest even if you thought it was. You're young, and you have no idea how complicated a relationship can be." Grace took a good hard look at me. Maybe assessing me for signs of weakness. Then she continued. "You seem to be a good man, and Eve obviously trusts you enough to show you her secrets. Now it's your job to keep those secrets. Four people know about this- Me, Odette, Eve's doctor, and now you. Nobody else gets to know. _Nobody_. Not unless Eve chooses to tell them herself. I don't care how bad she hurts you, or how angry she makes you. And she will do both, eventually. There's no such thing as a relationship free of pain. _Nobody. Knows._ Understood?"

"Absolutely," I said, without hesitation.

Satisfied- or as much as she was going to be, anyway- Grace unlocked the door and rolled it up. I waved good night and walked out. At the sidewalk, I stopped and looked back. "Grace," I said, "I want the same things for Eve that you do. I can't promise I won't make mistakes, but… I'll always do what's best for her."

Grace looked at me, weighing whether or not she should say something. In the end, she just shut the garage door.

I stepped back and looked the building over. Up on the second floor, through the window, I saw Eve- sans hoodie, I noticed- looking out at me. She waved tentatively. I blew her a kiss, which made her smile, albeit forlornly. Then I turned and walked away.

Quite an evening, I thought as I walked. I'd expected movie night and hanging out, with a remote possibility of make-outs. Instead I got Chinese food and true confessions, then Eve did a striptease for me and we kissed.

We kissed.

I put my fingers to my lips. They were still moist. Run my tongue over my lips. They still tasted of her, even. We kissed.

Laughing maniacally, I ran to the corner, jumped at a lamppost, and rebounded off it in lieu of a simple turn. It was around eight o'clock- just past sunset, in April- and the shops along Main street were still open. A handful of shoppers were milling about, walking to or fro with purchases while being distracted by a teen-aged male in a t-shirt and dark clothes dancing his way down the sidewalk like a loon.

I barreled my way down the street, whirling awkwardly to music that was only in my head and doing random dance steps from wherever or whatever. Passing by a laundromat, I made gun barrels from my index fingers and blasted away at the windows with intangible bullets, "Pew pew pew!" I sidestepped nimbly away from a lady walking a dog. Jumped up on a lamppost and swung around it like Fred Astaire. Pedestrians gawked. They probably thought I was on drugs, but nope. I got this high on nothing but joy. Eve and I had kissed. It wasn't my first kiss, but it was AWESOME. I was so psyched I could dance all night. Hell, I felt like could dance forever. I danced all the way down the block.

Then I barreled into an old lady with a granny cart, knocking her groceries all over the place. I stopped to apologize and help her up, but instead wound up running down the next block, chased by her very angry middle-aged son.

After outdistancing him, I took it slow and careful the rest of the way home. There were crazies on these streets.


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

GET UP AND LET ME SEE YOU SMILE

Sunday, Mom spent most of the day out clothes shopping with Diane. I stayed home, saying I had to study. While this was true- finals were in just over a month-, I actually spent most of the day on my bed, texting Eve, who was similarly hiding in her room with schoolbooks and not looking at them. We didn't talk about much of importance. In fact, we texted for hours and hours about nothing in particular. We were young and in love, drunk on each others' company.

At some point, we decided that we would keep our relationship a secret at school. We would talk like friends at French and lunch, but not really let on that we were officially together. I don't really know why we decided on this. I think the official reason was that we didn't want the attention and gossip that came with being an item. (Even though, if Roxy was to be believed, everybody already knew.) Truthfully, though, we just liked the idea of being secret lovers, sharing something private that nobody else knew about.

And then Eve blew that plan out of the water. After ninth period and just before dismissal bell, she tracked me down at my locker. As soon as our eyes met, she ran up and jumped into my arms, laughing and hugging me and wrapping her legs around my waist. I spun her around like a merry-go-round, not because it was fun but because the force of her landing in my arms was enough that I had to stumble to keep from falling on my ass. After a full rotation, she allowed me to let her down. "I did it!", she said, beaming.

"That… that's great!" I said. I looked around the hall and saw a number of students taking notice. I guess we were an item now. "Uhh… what did you do?", I asked.

Eve dug around in her backpack, withdrew a page of a sketchbook and handed it to me. On it was another self-portrait. It was executed in a realistic style, quite contrary to Eve's usual anime-inspired flair. In the drawing, Eve sat nude as if on the floor, legs out before her, and. The leg closest to the viewer was bent to obscure her naughty bits. I noted an instantly recognizable face, slim frame and a modest bust. Her hair hung to her shoulders, and was colored blue, the only color in the drawing outside of the eyes.

"Wow," I said. "This is really good!" I wasn't lying. It was probably her best work yet. It captured her precisely.

She grabbed my face and gave me a big kiss. "I have you to thank for it. I used your portrait as a study, and once I saw how you did it it just all came out. Look on the back!"

I turned the drawing around. On the back side was written "Great job! A+"

"Miss Ross loved it!", Eve gushed. "She said I'd finally managed to find my true self."

"That's great!" I said, handing the drawing back and hugging her. "Congratulations!"

Eve giggled. "Thanks, Aaron. I couldn't have done this without you."

"Ah, I had nothing to do with it," I said bashfully. "This is your work, 100%. I just gave you a little bit of perspective."

She smiled. "Aaron…," she said sweetly. "You're so…"

Eve was interrupted when a rude shove from behind sent her stumbling into me. The drawing fell to the ground, where a foot in a pink heeled shoe stepped on it.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Roxy said mockingly. "Here, let me get that for you..." She reached down and took the drawing, but did not move her foot beforehand, resulting in the drawing tearing in two right down the middle as she picked it up. Eve gasped in horror.

"Oh, clumsy me!", Roxy said, only now stopping to look at the drawing. She laughed. "Oh really, doing porn now? I'm so very sorry, Eve, I guess you'll have to redo it if you want the world to see your flat chest." She dropped one half the drawing and kicked the other one away. Eve lunged to grab both halves as Roxy laughed. The drawing was torn diagonally across. Completely ruined.

Eve rose to her feet, looking at the torn drawing as if she'd just seen a beloved pet run over by a car. She turned to Roxy, who was still cackling like a supervillain. Becca and Missy stood behind her, laughing along. "Roxy…," Eve said, discordantly soft. "How could you?"

"How could I what? Tear up your little drawing?", Roxy said. "Oh, the humanity! Never mind that I have a criminal record now thanks to you, but surely, _surely_, a torn drawing is a tragedy on par with Shakespeare!"

"Do you... do you have any idea how much work I put into this?!", Eve said, anger rising in her voice. "How many _weeks_ I spent trying to get it right?"

"Weeks?", Roxy said. "_Weeks_?! I put _years_ into my reputation! Into my life! Now, everybody looks at me like a jailbird thanks to you, loser! Do you know my mom's threatening to send me to rehab for the summer?!"

I sneered and waved my hand as if to banish Roxy to the netherworld. "Fuck off, Roxy!"

Both girls ignored both me and the crowd that was gathering. "Yes, I vandalized your art," Roxy continued, "and that's nowhere near enough to make us even! You want to amends, hand over that sketchbook of yours so I can shred them ALL!" Eve grimaced, her fists clenching, but Roxy didn't stop. "Shred them into tiny. Little. Bits. Just like what you made of my life, you flat-chested little FREAK!"

Kindled already, Eve's anger burst into flames. "You fucking WHORE!", she screamed.

Eve shoved Roxy, and Roxy shoved her back, and in the blink of the eye they were wailing on each other, arms swinging wildly. I jumped in in an attempt to break it up, but only got shoved to the ground myself. Roxy got Eve into a headlock, jamming the smaller girl's face into her dodgeball-sized breast in an apparent attempt to smother her to death. Becca tried halfheartedly to get Roxy to disengage, while Missy- as usual- stood around cluelessly. In the background, students cheered the fight. I struggled to my feet, wondering if this situation was serious enough that I could jump in and start hitting a girl. But before I could do anything, there was a flash of white and Roxy screamed. Eve broke free and stumbled back while Roxy stared at her chest, aghast. "You bit my boob, you little freak!", she said.

Before Eve could retort, the piercing sound of a gym whistle cut through the air, so loud we all covered our ears. I turned to where the sound came from, and my heart sank to see the last person you wanted to catch you brawling in the halls.

* * *

"You three have been getting in a lot of trouble lately," Annie said. "Especially this delinquent here." She pointed an accusing finger at Eve, who scoffed dismissively.

For fighting in the hall, the three of us- Roxy, Eve, and I- had been marched off to the science lab that served as detention room. We sat three in a row, with Eve in the center, slouching disinterestedly in our chairs. Annie stood before us, marching back and forth with her hands behind her back while berating us. Mister Jackson sat at the big stone-topped teacher's desk up front, waiting patiently for Annie to finish her self-important tirade.

"But you two," Annie said, pointing to Roxy and I each in turn. "You have been no angels either. Apparently, none of you understand that the school has _rules_, and these rules exist for a reason."

"What reason?", Eve asked. "So that you can be a dick to the whole school?"

"Hey…," Mister Jackson begun, but Annie cut him off.

"I will handle this, Mister Jackson." Her gaze snapped towards Eve. "Watch your mouth, delinquent! I will not stand for insubordinate behavior in my detention… And don't _you_ start!" This last was directed at Roxy, who had been making yaketty-yak gestures.

Roxy rolled her eyes.

"Do NOT give me that lip!", Annie said, taking out a pencil and notepad. "I will remind you that I am a representative of the principal and the school administration, and disrespect with not be tolerated!"

"Why are you picking on me, anyway?" Roxy said. "She's the real criminal here!"

"I am not!", Eve protested.

Roxy smirked. "Criminal, traitor, liar…"

Annie cut Roxy off by stamping her foot once for attention and then dramatically striking her notepad with a pencil.

"What?", Eve said. "You've got a Death Note there?"

Again Annie struck the notepad with her pencil. "What I have here," she said, "is a tally of the number of _extra_ days detention for each of you. You both have one. If you keep talking, I will keep giving them out. There will be _quiet_ in detention."

Silence.

For about a second.

"You're still a pothead," Roxy told Eve. Annie added another check to her notes.

"So are you!", Eve retorted. Again, Annie made a check in her notepad. I propped an elbow up on my desk, rested my head in my hand, and sighed. This would be going on a while. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Jackson leaning back with a similarly resigned expression. When he does the detention spiel it's simple: Sit down, shut up, phones off, raise your hand if you need anything. Annie has to make a big production out of it.

"I just used what you gave me," Roxy said. _Check_.

"I'm not the one who was dumb enough to bitch-slap a cop!", Eve said. _Check._

"Wouldn't have had to if not for you!", said Roxy. _Check._

"Fuck you!", said Eve. _Check._

"Fuck me? You're the one who fucks over your friends!", said Roxy. _Check._

"At least my friends stick around, yours bail the second they see little miss gestapo here!_", _said Eve_ Check_ and_ check _again, presumably for calling Annie a Nazi. Or possibly for calling her little.

"Oh, go have a funeral for your chicken-scratch drawings", said Roxy. _Check._

"Go fuck a teacher, you whore!", said Eve. _Check._

"At least I could be a whore! With your scrawny little body..._", _said Roxy._ Check._

"Fuck you!_", _said Eve. _Check._

"Look in the mirror, freak, your boobs are pancakes!", said Roxy. _Check._

"Yours are volleyballs!", said Eve. _Check._

"Annie's are just plain ugly," I said.

All eyes in the room turned to me. Apparently, everybody had forgotten I was here.

"Well, why should I let you two hog all the trouble for yourselves?!", I said.

Annie made several new checks in her notepad. "Now you're all caught up." Before Eve and Roxy could start up again, she continued. "I suggest you all take your personal problems and shove them down your throats, because I have the authority to keep adding on to your detention until we reach the end of the school year!"

I groaned. "No, Annie, you do not have the authority."

Annie wheeled on me. "Don't I now? I'll have you know..."

"You have no authority, Annie. None!", I said. "All you can do is make recommendations to the principal. Which she ignores because she's as sick of your shit as everybody else!"

Annie recoiled. "S-she does not! The principal takes my..."

Ignoring her protests, I persisted. "When was the last time she approved your detentions? Because I never hear from anybody who did more than a single day."

Annie scowled. "That's..."

"Or how about that new dress code you were so gung-ho about?", I asked. "Did that get shot down too? Come to think of it, does anybody even listen to your threats anymore? Is anybody afraid of you? Or are you the only student in the whole school who doesn't know you're just a measly hall monitor with delusions of grandeur?!"

"Hey!", Mister Jackson cut in. Out of respect for his authority, I crossed my arms and left it at that. Before me, Annie seethed, hands clenched into fists and shaking. She fixed me with her trademark icy glare, but it wavered.

"Turn your phones off," Annie said in a measured voice. "Stay in your seats. Do not speak. Raise your hands if you need anything. You will be informed when it's time to leave, not before. Mister Jackson, I must make my daily report to the administration. I trust you can take it from here?"

Mister Jackson nodded. Annie turned and stomped out of the room. As she left Mister Jackson shook his head and mouthed something silently. I was 99% sure what he mouthed was "Fucking Annie." Then he took out a book and started reading. To my side, I saw Roxy and Eve, mouthing insults at each other. Roxy tossed an eraser at Eve, hitting her in the head. "Ow!" Eve said, getting Mister Jackson's attention. I hurriedly raised my hand. "Mister Jackson?"

"Yes?" he replied.

"May I switch seats with Eve?", I asked.

"Please do," he said.

* * *

Detention goes until 4:00. Depending on who sends you there and for what, you can be out much sooner, but (Fucking) Annie always gives you the max. We were allowed to work on our homework and study, but boredom always sets in about the half-hour mark. Eve spent at least some of the time drawing. Halfway through, she showed me a sketch she's done of Roxy done up as an ugly demon-girl. I had to stifle a laugh.

When we finally got out, Roxy stomped off in one direction, ignoring us. Eve and I walked together to the school's front gate, where we found Kevin's car parked at the curb, and Kevin himself standing beside. He waved as we came out, and I waved back.

"Need a ride home?", he asked.

"Wouldn't mind," I replied. "Can you drop off Eve, too?"

"No problem," he said. "Just hop in the back," he told Eve.

Eve thanked him and opened the rear side passenger door. We all got in and buckled our seat belts: Kevin in the driver's seat, Eve in the rear center, me next to her on the passenger side. "What's the occasion?", I asked Kevin. His shift ended a little before dismissal, and he usually didn't wait around for me. Certainly not until 4:00.

"Your aunt asked me. Says she's tired of you missing dinner," Kevin said.

I had been getting home late a lot recently, come to think of it. Priorities.

Looking back over the seat, he added, "So, are you two official now?"

I looked at Eve, who smiled behind her hood.

"Well, uh..." I said, "I guess you could say that, yeah,"

"Well, congrats on that!," Kevin said. "Certainly took you long enough."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Yeah, from what I've heard, we were basically the last ones to know."

Kevin laughed. "You'd be surprised how often that happens. Anybody can look at you two and see it was meant to be."

I shook my head. "Nothing's meant to be. I'm here because I choose to be." I took Eve's hand. "Because I want to be. Because this girl is worth it."

Eve smiled. And rolled her eyes. "Has he always been this sappy?", she asked Kevin.

Kevin put up his hands defensively. "I plead the fifth. I'm going to drop Aaron off first, that okay?"

Eve nodded.

"Alright, let's get going." Kevin started the car, and pulled away from the curb.

Kevin put on some music and focused on the road. In a matter of seconds my arm was around Eve and she was cuddled up against me, or as close to it as two people wearing seat belts could get. She nuzzled her nose against my cheek and received a peck on the lips, and then another. So short a time, yet this already felt perfectly natural, even ordinary.

My eyes wandered over Eve's body. Once you knew the truth, you could see little traces and hints of it; subtleties in the shape of the shoulders or the cheeks that suggested she'd been born in a boy's body. Or maybe I had it backwards; maybe because I knew it, my mind invented things to see.

"What?", she said. She must have noticed me looking, but the half-grin as she said it told me she didn't mind being oogled a little. Just a little.

"Nothing," I said. "Just admiring."

She smiled back at me. Rested her hand on my chest and slowly drew it downward, delicate fingers teasing me through the fabric of my shirt.

Kevin must have caught a glimpse of us in the rear view. "Hey, keep it clean back there, lovebirds!", he teased. "First base is fine, but I don't want any stains on the seats!"

I groaned. "Yeah, yeah, we'll behave," I said over the music. Eve snickered.

We sat there a moment, just looking and smiling.

I was sure Kevin couldn't hear over the music, but nevertheless I leaned into Eve's hood for a little extra privacy. "So what's it like?", I said.

"What's what like?", Eve replied.

"Becoming a girl," I said.

She hesitated to answer, and I suddenly realized that was a very personal question to ask out of simple curiosity.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't mean to..."

"No, no, it's alright," she said reassuringly. "I'm not ashamed of it or anything, I just… I'm not really sure how to put it into words." She shifted a little in her seat, trying to get more comfortable. "In a sense, I've always been a girl. As early as kindergarten, I liked doing 'girl stuff' more than 'boy stuff'. Once time when I was… I suppose four or so, Grace let me dress in one of her frilly old party dresses and we painted each other's toenails, and talked like girls did. When our parents caught us, they yelled at her for encouraging me and gave me a talk about having to make friends with the boys at school. At the time, I think their main concern was that they didn't want me being bullied.

"I don't think any of us took it seriously back then- Grace was in middle school, and just liked having the sister she always wanted. Mom and Dad thought it was a phase that I would grow out of eventually. But I didn't. In fact, as I got older, I only got more sure that I wasn't meant to be a boy. It's like… you know when you get some new shoes, and they're uncomfortable for a few days until your feet get used to them? That was me. Only it wasn't my shoes, it was my skin. And it never went away.

"When I started taking hormones... it was like going through puberty all over again. It's like your body is mutating into something completely different- my breasts started growing out, my voice changed- it was exciting, but also kind of unnerving. One of the things the hormones do, they make your balls shrink. That freaked me out. I mean, it didn't give me second thoughts, but it did kind of drive home the fact that there would be things I'd have to give up if I continued on this path."

"You'll have to get rid of them entirely at some point, I take it?", I asked.

Eve shrugged. "Well, I don't _have_ to do anything. It's not like a checklist you have to fill out before being declared a 'real' woman. I'll probably lose my testicles eventually, though. They mean well, but they just keep dumping testosterone into my bloodstream, trying to make a man out of me. The rest, well… I haven't decided yet. What do you think?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, whatever."

Eve gave me a confused look.

"Like I told you, I don't care. It's Eve I love, and you'll always be Eve." I said. "Besides, it's your life, not mine, and your decisions to make. It wouldn't be right of me to push you towards being what I want you to be. I'm just here to hold your hand through it."

I was actually a little surprised at how brightly Eve smiled when she heard that. "You're such a sap, Aaron," she said playfully.

"Deal with it, baby," I replied.

We laughed together and she snuggled a bit closer. "You know, the sacrifices of the flesh, they aren't so bad. What really hurts is the social drama. Once I started transitioning, everybody in my old school hated me. Boys thought I was a traitor, girls thought I was a poser, everybody thought I was crazy or creepy. I didn't know starting a new life would mean resetting all my friendships. But I guess I never had any real friends there to begin with. And my parents were not supportive at all... there were days that it felt like I was alone in the universe. That's why I kept it all a secret when I moved here. I didn't want to be judged. But everybody judged me anyway, just for being the girl in the hoodie who nobody knew. Everybody except you.

"Aaron, that first day when you talked to me… I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect. For a while I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for it to turn out to be setup to some vicious prank or something. But it never did, and eventually I realized… all you saw when you looked at me was me. Not a target, not a trophy, not a lost soul in need of saving, not a puzzle to be solved. Just me. It had been so long since somebody looked at me and saw a human being. Aaron…," for a second the words caught in her throat. It took her a moment to relax. "Aaron, meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me."

She smiled at me, and I returned the smile. Then, before things could get weepy, I flicked her nose gently. "Now who's getting sappy?", I asked.

Eve laughed, and slapped me in the chest mock-angrily. We kissed, and then she laid her head on my shoulder. I hugged her and everything felt good.

Presently the car pulled up at Aunt Diane's house. With one last kiss, Eve released me.

"This is my stop," I said. "Thanks for the ride, Kev. Be sure to get her home safe."

Kevin nodded and waved. "Have a good one."

I climbed out of the car, dragging my backpack with me. I moved to close the door. But at the last second, I stopped and leaned back in. "Hey, you know, why don't you come in?", I asked Eve. "There's room for one more at the dinner table."

"Uh…," Eve said, caught off guard. "Thanks, but… I'll have to take a rain check. I'm doing something tonight. Some other time though, for sure."

"Ah," I said, failing to hide my disappointment. "Alright, see you tomorrow, then. Take care." I leaned in and stole just one more kiss before closing the door and stepping back. I watched the car roll off until it was out of sight.

I walked up to the front door, opened it and announced myself. I walked into the living room to see Mom dressed in a sharp business suit, checking herself in a mirror and discussing with Aunt Diane how to re-domesticate a head of hair that had gone feral from neglect. "Aaron!", Aunt Diane said. "How was school?"

I blinked. "Uh, fine except for detention. New clothes?"

"You like them?", Mom asked. "How do I look?" She spun around to give me the 360 degree view.

"You look good," I said. "What's the occasion?"

"Your mother has a job interview tomorrow," Aunt Diane said.

"That's great news!", I said brightly. "Hope it goes well!"

"Well, that's what we're trying to make sure," Diane said. "Dinner will be leftovers tonight, make a plate whenever you want."

"No problem," I said. "I'll be upstairs if you need me. Good luck!"

And I headed up to my room, my steps light and bouncy on the staircase. If Dad was watching then, I imagine he'd be happy to see us doing well. Life was good.

And part of me would like to end this story right here, with my family back on its feet, a bright future ahead, and Eve and I living happily; if not ever after, than at least for a while. But that wouldn't be the whole story. Because life doesn't give you simple and clean happily ever afters. Life, like high school, is drama. And drama never sleeps. As I sauntered springily up that staircase, I had no idea that Eve and I were less than twenty-four hours away from a drama that would put to the test everything I thought I knew about us, and show me the true cost of having to bury the past.


	13. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

TIME WON'T MAKE THINGS BETTER

I came downstairs the next morning to find Mom in her interview suit, chatting with an unexpected visitor. "Kevin?", I asked.

Kevin was chipper. "Morning, Ronnie! Come on, we gotta get going."

I gave him a confused look. "Isn't it a bit early?" I asked.

"I'll explain on the way. Let's go, I got breakfast in the car," he said.

"Okay, uh... just let me get lunch," I said.

I rushed into the kitchen, Mom trailing along behind me. Diane sat at the table, dressed for the office, papers laying in front of her. Interview prep, I imagined.

"What's going on?", Mom asked.

"No idea," I said with a shrug. "I'll find out soon enough, I guess. Kevin's not the kind to drag me into a fistfight or anything." I grabbed my lunch from the counter and gave mom a hug and a kiss. "Thanks for lunch. And good luck on the interview today."

"You have fun at school," she replied.

I rushed out to the car. Inside I found a paper bag on the center console with an egg sandwich and hash browns inside. Nice. I grabbed the sandwich and took a bite.

Kevin started the car. "Your mom's looking pretty good today!", he said.

I swallowed before answering. "Yeah, she's got a job interview!", I said.

"Awesome! Where?" he asked.

"Aunt Diane's company," I replied, continuing to eat as I talked. "They normally aren't big on nepotism, but Diane explained the situation, and the boss was sympathetic, so… yeah, so long as HR clears her, it looks good!"

"Glad to see her up and about again," Kevin said.

"One day at a time, like they always say," I said. "Did Eve get home alright last night?"

I wasn't expecting him to answer no, so the answer I did get surprised me. "Well, I assume so, but I didn't actually take her there."

"What?", I asked.

"She had other plans. After we drove off, she asked me to take her to the mall instead. She had arrangements with a friend of hers, and needed my help as well." he said.

"What friend?", I asked. Not to throw shade on Eve or anything, but she didn't really have a lot.

"Goth girl with watermelons under her shirt. Probably implants," he said. "She was kind of… strange, honestly. Came at me all smiles, then Eve introduced me as 'Kevin from school, he's gay,' and… I wouldn't say Elvira objected, but she dropped from a hundred watts to forty."

I laughed. "Yeah, that would be Odette. Why did they need your help?"

"Well," Kevin said, "Eve wanted to pick you out a present. Since I know you so well and happened to be there, she thought I might be able to provide some input."

I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of present? It's not my birthday or anything..." I sincerely hoped we weren't going to start doing anniversaries of randomized lengths.

"Well, I get the idea it's more like a present from the goth girl to both of you. She's the one who paid. Promises of repayment were made, refused, argued about…" he trailed off.

"Umm…," I said nervously, "What exactly is this present?"

Kevin smiled. "Come on, Ronnie, you know I can't ruin the surprise."

That was fair, but Odette's involvement had visions of terrifying latex abominations dancing in my head.

"You'll see at school," Kevin added.

I left it at that and focused on breakfast. At school, we parked in the lot in back, then walked around to the front. The bell hadn't rung yet. Students milled around the front entrance, and a few meandered in. I looked around for Eve, but didn't see her.

"Where is she?", I asked.

Kevin also looked around. "Looks like she's running late," he said. "Let's hang out a bit, she'll be here."

We stood around waiting and made small talk. One minute after another ticked by, until it was almost time for the bell. Eve still hadn't arrived. I was a little miffed at Kevin for rushing me out just to wait around.

"I don't see her," I said.

"She'll be here," Kevin replied, also slightly annoyed.

"Maybe she went in already?", I offered.

"She wouldn't, trust me," Kevin replied.

"Maybe she's in trouble, then?", I said. "I mean, if she's not..."

"I'm here!" Eve's voice came from behind me. She sounded a little winded. I turned around and saw her, frazzled but smiling broadly. I blinked, not sure if my eyes were working right.

Eve was wearing a dress.

It was a stylish dress, too. Sleeveless blue-on-blue plaid with a short skirt, secured around the waist with a wide black belt. Over it she wore a black leather jacket, matching the belt and giving the look an element of toughness. Her backpack was slung over her shoulder. She also wore a choker necklace, and blue short heels over black thigh-high stockings. Just a peek of bare flesh was visible between the skirt and the top of the thigh-highs. _Like anime girls_, I thought. She walked towards me carefully and deliberately, heels clicking against the sidewalk. As she did, I saw she was also wearing a shiny gray hairband and dangling lapis earrings. And makeup. Really good makeup, too; I didn't notice it for almost a full minute.

This was definitely Eve, but a new kind of Eve. Less aloof, less hidden. An Eve that wanted to be seen. And she was.

"Do you like it?", she asked.

I couldn't talk. I just stared in a trance. Kevin put two fingers under my chin and politely pushed my jaw back into place, which snapped me out of it. "You look amazing!", I told her.

Eve laughed melodiously. "I spent all night picking it out. Everything except the jacket, Grace lent that to me this morning. She thought it completed the look."

"She was right!", I said, fawning shamelessly. "You look awesome! How do you feel in it?"

"I feel good!", she said. "I mean, really good! I never thought I'd be able to pull off a dress, but wow!"

She spun around to give me the 360 degree view, her skirt whirling like an umbrella. Then she stumbled and put her arms out to steady herself. "Uh… well, except for maybe the heels," she said, brushing her hair aside with a slight laugh. "That's why I was late. They weren't so hard to walk in at the mall, but…" she trailed off.

"It's beautiful," I said. "This is a lovely present."

"Well, um… this actually isn't it," she said. "This is kind of… umm...", she threw a look at Kevin, who took the hint.

"Ah!", Kevin said. "You know, I should get to work, don't wanna be late. You two have fun in class!" We said bye and he excused himself, walking off to the school door.

Now it was just the two of us, and Eve was suddenly flustered. "So, like I said, this isn't really the present. It's more of… a preview, I guess. See, umm..." she hesitated. "Well, I know this is kind of a backwards way to do it, but… ummm… Aaron, would you go to the prom with me?"

With all the drama lately, I had completely forgotten about senior prom. "Shit! When is that, again?"

"You don't know?", Eve said.

"I've been busy lately, it slipped my mind. It's not this weekend, is it?", I asked.

Eve snickered. "No, silly, it's weekend after next. You've got plenty of time to prepare."

"Good," I said, nodding. "Good, okay then..."

"So…," Eve said coyly, "will you?"

"Yes" would probably have been a fine answer, but I dropped to one knee and took Eve's hands in my own. "My dear, it would be an honor and a pleasure to escort you to the senior prom. Provided you don't hold it against me for not asking you sooner."

Eve giggled. "You're forgiven, my handsome paramour."

"In fact," I added, getting to my feet, "maybe I can make it up to you between now and then. How'd you like to go out this Friday? There's this movie playing that I'd like to see." After I got home, I'd figure out what it was.

Eve smiled. "You mean, like a date?"

"Yeah, an actual date. I'll buy you dinner and everything. I know a little Italian place around the corner..."

She cut me off by pulling me into a hug, all giggles. I'd later find out she'd never had a guy ask her out before. "You're the best, Aaron," she said.

We kissed- just a peck on the lips, and then I held her steady as she stumbled in her heels again. I snickered.

"Yeah," she said. "These are going to take some getting used to."

Behind me, the bell rang. Among the students in the courtyard, there was a general movement towards the doors.

"Sorry," Eve said, "but I'd better get to class."

"See you in French," I said. "Have fun!"

She walked to the doors, waving back at me as she did. "Love you!", she said.

"Love you too!", I answered.

I watched her go. So did a lot of people, boys especially. Eve was definitely being seen. One guy I didn't even know looked straight at me after she passed by, nodded approvingly and gave me a thumbs-up. Apparently, I was now the boyfriend of the hottest girl in school.

"My god, Kevin, she's incredible!", I replied. ""

Kevin shrugged. "Don't look at me, I'm a t-shirt and jeans dude. Hey, I gotta get to the kitchen. Can you get to class yourself, or are you too disoriented?"

I realized I was still gawping. I shook my had to clear it. "Go to hell, Kev. I'm not that stunned."

He laughed. "Sure thing. Have a great day!"

"You too," I replied.

I made my way into the school building. The image of Eve in a dress stuck in my mind. It had been a breathtaking sight. How the hell did Eve manage to make _plaid _awesome? I pondered this along the way to first period, getting so involved in this point that I almost didn't notice two familiar voices talking:

"-thick pads are not against the rules."

"Pad my ass, she..."

I looked up to see Annie and Roxy talking to each other. The second I did, Roxy noticed me. Immediately, she beckoned to Annie and the two of them ducked into the girls' bathroom together. I took note of this- Roxy and Annie conspiring together seemed somehow ominous- but I was too caught up in my ruminations right now to worry about it. I wouldn't realize the significance of that exchange until it was too late.

* * *

After first period, on the way to second, my path took me past the lunchroom. There I noted a large crowd gathering, and raised voices that I couldn't quite make out. I rolled my eyes. Always drama. Wanting no part of whatever it was, I turned down the hallway to take a different route. I got a few steps before somebody tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and was surprised to see Tyrone. Surprised moreso since, for once, he was without his crew.

"Since we ain't talking to each other," he said, nodding his head to the cafeteria, "I can't tell you that the ruckus over there is Annie getting into it with your girl."

I cursed, thanked Tyrone, and rushed off in the direction of the cafeteria. As I got close, the voices indeed became familiar.

"I am a representative of the school," Annie said, "and you _will_ accompany me to the ladies' room..."

"Fuck you!" Eve yelled.

The yelling came from inside the cafeteria, but the crowd was packed tight around the door, and I couldn't push my way through. There was a second doorway down the hall. Growling in frustration, I ran down the hall and through this doorway. Inside the cafeteria, the crowd formed a circle. Annie and Eve were only just visible through the forest of bodies. I rushed over, but again I failed to muscle my way through the crowd.

"Do not add obscenity to your…," Annie said warningly.

"Fuck you _twice_!", Eve interrupted. "A hall monitor cannot strip-search students! You're off your rocker! I'm leaving!"

Eve turned for the door, but Annie grabbed her by the arm. "You will..."

Eve forced her way out of Annie's grip. "Go to hell, you pint-sized psycho!"

At the insult, Annie's face went instantly red with anger. "YOU WILL NOT ADDRESS ME AS..." she grabbed at Eve's jacket, but the larger girl shoved her away. By her face.

"That's it!", Annie bellowed. "We'll just do this right here!"

She lunged for Eve and grappled her. Eve furiously tried to disentangle herself from the smaller girl's grip. The crowd cheered the fight- to them, this was nothing more than a show. They jostled each other for a better look, meanwhile I struggled to find a gap through the scrum. Off to one side, I saw Kevin running in from the kitchen. He also tried to push through the crowd, with more success on account of his larger stature.

Through the sea of shifting bodies, I saw Annie grabbing at Eve's… panties? What?! The crowd roared harder, as Eve's eyes reddened with anger at the violation.

"GET! OFF!", Eve bellowed at the top of her lungs. There was a hard shove, and the sound of ripping cloth. Annie was thrown back almost a foot, falling on her back. Eve stumbled in her heels, tried to regain her balance, and fell to the ground on herself.

The crowd gasped. I saw shocked faces and the cheering stopped immediately. Even Annie seemed surprised. In a blind rage, Eve rose to her feet, ran the few steps towards Annie and jumped on top of her. She drove a clenched fist into Annie's face once, twice… then Kevin, who had finally broken through, grabbed Eve by the shoulders and yanked her off Annie and to her feet. Eve lunged and strained against Kevin's grip as he tried to calm her. "You little shit!", Eve yelled. "You worthless little piece of shit!"

"Eve!", I called.

Her gaze immediately snapped towards me. For a second, her rage was interrupted. Then she saw the other students around her, mouths agape and eyes staring. There was no doubt what they'd seen. A look of fear crossed Eve's face, which soon hardened to cold hatred and disgust. She shrugged out of Kevin's grip, and he let her go. She stood in the center of the ring of people, all eyes on her. With a sneer, she grabbed her skirt and lifted it up as far as it would go.

"Yeah, that's it!", she berated the crowd. "Take a good look! Get yourself an eyeful! I'm packing more than your boyfriends!" People recoiled and backed away, some covering their eyes. Eve shoved her skirt back into place. Her eyes brimmed with tears, anger and sadness mixing together as she continued. "What's the matter?! Can't figure out a way to hate me _more_! All of you, you petty little shits, with your petty little problems! You all love to push me around, don't you? Ignore me? Insult me behind my back, you think I can't hear? You think I can't hear?! I am not your capering fool, you fucks! I am not your punching bag! I am a HUMAN BEING!" Tears streamed from her eyes, carrying trails of makeup with them. She stomped her foot, only to lose her balance and fall again. Frustrated, she ripped off her heels and threw them at the crowd. "I hate you! I hate you all! This whole fucking school can get blown sky-high for all I care! I hope you all burn in hell!"

Eve got to her feet and marched purposefully towards the door. The crowd parted before her like the Red Sea. I called to her, but she ignored me. Cursing under my breath, I dashed back to the far doors, and looped around. By the time I got to the hallway she was nowhere in sight. I ran through the halls, calling her name, and finally spotted her.

"Eve! Eve!", I called while running up behind her. She didn't respond. I slowed my pace and put my hand on her shoulder, only for her to immediately whirl and shove my arm away.

"Eve...", I began, but she didn't even let me start.

"Shut up!", Eve yelled, cheeks black from smudged eyeliner. "Just shut up, Aaron! I hate you most of all! This is all your fault!"

I stammered, off-guard. "Eve… what are you saying? I..."

"Shut up!", she yelled. "You did this to me, Aaron! You! All of this...", she pointed to her girly clothes, "all of this was because you convinced me that I could do it! That I could be it! I thought I could! I thought I could! And look what happened! It's all your fault! You did this, you fucking _chaser_!" She ripped her hairband off and threw it at me, so fast I instinctively raised my hands to protect myself.

"Eve, calm down," I pleaded. "You're not making any..."

"Shut up! Shut up!", Eve screamed. "When do you ever shut up?! All you ever do is talk! Whenever anything goes wrong, you just talk and talk, but it never helps! It never makes anything better!"

"Eve… you're...", I started.

"Shut! Up!", she yelled. "Just go away, Aaron! Just leave me alone! I hate you! I hate you!"

She wheeled on her feet and ran down the hall. I chased after her, calling her name, but barely got six steps before someone grabbed my arm from behind. I turned to see Kevin.

"Let her go, Aaron," he said softly.

"What the hell, Kevin?!", I said, struggling. "You let _me_ go!"

"Just let her go," he repeated. "This is something she needs to deal with herself."

"I'm not going to abandon her!", I yelled. "Let me..."

"Are you gay, Aaron?", Kevin asked.

The question caught me off-guard. "What?", I replied.

"Are you gay?", Kevin repeated.

What kind of a question was that? "I love Eve," I said. "Everything else is details."

"But are you gay?", he repeated yet again.

I didn't have time for this, especially from a friend so close I considered him a brother. But at Kevin's insistence, I gave it a moment's thought. "If I were gay, that would make Eve a man, and she's not, so I'm not," I said impatiently. "Now let me…"

"Exactly," Kevin said.

"What do you mean, exactly?!", I said.

"You don't know what she's going through!", Kevin said. "If you wanted, you could turn around right now and walk away and never look back. But Eve can't walk away from herself. She has to learn to face this alone, because there will be days that she'll have to."

I yanked my hand out of Kevin's grip. "Nobody has to face anything alone!" I turned and stomped off after Eve.

"Dammit Aaron, you can't fail the same way your father did!"

Kevin's words stopped me in my tracks. I had to go after Eve, but… I couldn't just let that stand. I turned around and marched right back to Kevin. "My dad was not a failure," I said, "Everything he did, he did for our family, for me and Mom, and..."

"And what?", Kevin said. "What did he do to your Mom? He took care of her. He made sure she had everything she needed, kept her comfortable, gave her the good life. And because of that, she never learned how to stand on her own two feet. He took such good care of her that now he's gone, she can't take care of herself! She can't even function without him around. And that's exactly what'll happen to Eve if you keep trying to protect her! You'll turn her into..."

Kevin had more to say, but I wasn't interested. I balled up my fist and swung, catching him right in the chin. It was a hard punch, so hard he stumbled back against the lockers. I closed on him, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled back to swing again.

But I didn't. Kevin and I had gotten into fights before, and he usually came out the better. But today he wasn't fighting back. He just stared at me with a grim face, ready to take his lumps. Because of course. We may be brothers, but he was still school staff, and hitting a student could get him fired.

This wasn't a fair fight. It wasn't a just fight either. What it was, was a distraction. I let go of Kevin and stepped back. "Fuck you, Kevin!", I said. "I know what I am, and what I have to do."

I left Kevin behind and ran down the hall. It led to the front door of the school, which I barged through. I saw Eve on the sidewalk some way down, and called her name. She didn't stop, so I ran after her. But as she turned a corner and vanished from sight, a thought occurred that stopped me dead in my tracks, cutting off all thought of further pursuit.

Kevin was right.

* * *

I sat in French class. The seat next to me was empty. Miss Bisette droned on and on about who-knows-what, but I wasn't paying attention. My mind was on other things.

Life doesn't always have clear-cut beginnings and endings, but high school does. It starts on a September morning and ends a mere three years and nine months later at a graduation ceremony. And after it's done, everybody moves on. To adult life. To someplace else; a college, a job, a boot camp, a city far away with a thriving arts scene where you can chase dreams, but in all cases, to somewhere other than where you've spent the first eighteen years of your life. And whatever that new place is, it changes you. Without parental authority and the protections that come with it, you have to make your own decisions, and live with the consequences. Without the role society sets for you, you have to find a new one, and reevaluate if the old one ever made to happy. One year, three years, five years, and you look back on the kid you once were and barely remember him. You meet your old friends, and they've changed too. They might as well be total strangers.

High school is triumphant, high school is tragic, but most of all high school is temporary. A shockingly short stretch of your life's journey, a strange and mysterious land that you're ultimately just passing through. And when you leave, you take nothing with you but your memories. Everything that seems so important at the time, all too soon becomes the past.

Right now, my mom was sitting down at a desk somewhere across from an HR person, hoping they'd deign to give her a new purpose in life. Something to do other than lie on a couch all day and pine for lost happiness. She'd much rather go back to the days when she was a happy housewife living with a caring husband and a loving- if occasionally troublesome- son. But that wasn't happening. It was all in the past. She'd finally realized that. She'd broken free of the misery chaining her to the couch. I couldn't let those same chains bind me. Less than two months before graduation, and a short summer to linger nostalgically, and then life would send Eve and I in different directions. Who knew who we'd be when and if we next met? You must always, always, move on with your life. You must always bury the past. Which meant Eve and I had no future.

Still…

The fact that everything inevitably becomes the past only makes the present that much more precious. And the fact that nobody knows what the future may bring makes it all the more important to hold on, futile as it may be, to what's most important to you. So when the alarm on my phone went off in the middle of class, I shut it off, pocketed the phone, grabbed my books and backpack and walked straight out the door. Miss Bisette said something, probably objecting to my just leaving in the middle of class, but I wasn't listening.

Kevin had been right when he said that Eve had to learn how to face this alone. But I had also been right to say that she shouldn't have to. Sixty minutes to herself, in my mind, was a reasonable compromise. I knew that was probably false logic, but fuck it. I was Eve's boyfriend, and I was going to act like it. Maybe it wouldn't help. Maybe it would all be useless. But god damn it, I was going to try. If it all proved futile, at least I'd be able to say I didn't give up. Eve and I would have a last day together, but that day was not today.

Marching purposefully down the hallway, I was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Hey! Get back to class!" Glancing back over my shoulder to see Annie- sporting a black eye from earlier- pursuing me down the hall. I rolled my eyes and walked on, but she was a regular Javert. "Back to class, now!", she said. I ignored her and walked faster. "Truancy will not be tolerated!", she said. "Disobedience will not be tolerated! If you do not turn back right this minute, I will have you in detention toda-"

I whirled on her. "I don't care if you EXPEL me!"

Annie jumped. I closed on her, and she inched backwards.

"I don't care if you throw me straight out of this school!", I continued, bellowing with the burning rage of a hundred demons. "I don't give a FUCKING SHIT what you come up with to punish me! Because, sorry to disappoint you, but there are things in life more important than high school! More important than dramas, more important than classes, and CERTAINLY more important than your precious rules! Rules that, by the way, exist to keep the student body safe, not to empower a nasty, selfish, petty, indignant, power-tripping little CUNT with the body of a middle schooler and the attitude of a preschooler!"

Annie cowered, her lips stammering but making no sound. She was shaking. With a scoff of disgust I turned back around and stalked off.

"You… you can't do this!", Annie yelled, her voice shaking. "This is… unacceptable!"

She kept talking, but I tuned her out, flipped the bird over my shoulder and kept on walking. Annie didn't try to follow. She could fuck off for all I cared. This whole school could fuck off. My only concern right now was Eve, and I knew exactly where to catch up with her.

* * *

Sugar Tats was closed when I got there. A sign on the door said they'd be back tomorrow, but offered no further explanation. I supposed it had to do with their friend with the spare tattoo gun. I found Eve up on the roof, standing on the edge, looking out over the town. Her stockings had been torn. Her skirt swayed in a small breeze, as did her hair, which was a bit of a mess. I was sure that she had heard me clambering up the ladder, but she didn't look at me. I approached slowly, stepping heavily so she knew where I was. I waited until I was within arms reach to speak.

"I hope you're not thinking of jumping," I said.

"Why shouldn't I?", she asked with a far-away voice.

"Well," I said, "for one, it won't work. You're two floors up, which means you'll get some broken bones, a trip to the hospital, and a lot of drama from Grace over the medical bills, but you'll still be alive. Especially since, from this position, the awning will break your fall." Eve said nothing. "Of course," I continued, "since you're standing in that specific spot, you probably know this already, meaning you're really just taking in the view- which is nice, I'll grant you- and this talk of jumping is just a lame attempt to fuck with me." That was supposed to be a joke, but Eve gave me no response.

I reached up and took Eve's hand. She squeezed it, and I squeezed back. "Besides," I added, "even if you did succeed in ending it, all you'd accomplish is giving me, and Grace, and everybody else who loves you another person to mourn. Come down."

I helped her down of the ledge. Now I could see her face, it was in quite a state. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her makeup was thoroughly ruined. As soon as her feet were on the roof, she fell into my arms. We held each other tight, as if we would vanish if released.

"I'm sorry for the things I said, Aaron," she said.

"It's okay," I replied, running my hand through her hair. "I know you didn't mean them. Fucking Annie. She makes everybody crazy."

She disengaged from my arms. "Yeah, fucking Annie. Fucking high school. Fucking assholes. Fucking world." With a heavy sigh, she sat down on the roof, leaning back against an air conditioning unit, knees pulled to her chest. I took a seat across from her, reclining against the waist-high wall around the edge of the roof. "I can't go back there," she said with a sob.

"Eve, don't be like…", I began.

"I can't! Everybody knows! What are they going to do to me now?", she said.

"The exact same things they did before," I said. "The people who love you will still love you, and the people who hate you were never going to love you, and the people who don't care can't care less. Nothing has changed. You're no worse off than you ever were."

Eve continued to sob. No tears came- she must have cried them all out before I got here. I leaned my head back and looked at the sky. It was nearly midday. The sun shined down and the clouds ambled easily through the blue void. It should be too beautiful a day for sadness.

"Eve," I said, "the thing is, it never had anything to do with you. It was about them. They're cruel to you because they like it. Not because you're a girl who was born a boy. Not because you've got a flat chest, or you never talk to anyone, or you sit on the bleachers and draw at lunch, or anything else. They do it because, for god knows what reason, they have to make other people awful so that they can feel good themselves. All the rest is just excuses. If one excuse didn't exist, they'd just find another, and go on doing the same shit. It's never about the victim. It's always the asshole's fault."

Eve sniffled. "I just wanted… I wanted so much to be accepted. As a woman."

I turned to her and waited for her to meet my gaze before replying. "_I_ accept you, Eve."

She looked away. "Aaron, you're just one person."

"Yeah," I said. "So I'll have to accept you really hard to make up for it."

She didn't laugh. We sat there in silence for what felt like a long time.

"Do you think it'll ever get better?", she asked.

I sighed. "No. I'd like to tell you it will. But there will always be assholes in the world. People who like to make others feel awful."

Eve gave me a serious look.

"But that goes two ways, you know," I continued. "Just as there will always be assholes, there will also always be people who love you. People who will be there to watch your back, to make you smile, to let you cry on their shoulder…"

"People like you," she said.

I shrugged. "Like me, yeah. But also like Grace, like Odette. And there'll be others, too. You'll always have drama, and you'll always be plagued by assholes who want you to feel miserable. But you'll never have to face them alone."

She laughed, but it was a hollow laugh. "The assholes have us outnumbered, Aaron."

"Probably," I said. "But we have an advantage. The assholes want to send you running away. Your friends will want to stay with you."

"Why, Aaron?", she asked. "If you do that, you'll just wind up getting caught up in my drama."

"Because you were there for me," I said. "You didn't know it, and I didn't understand it, but the whole time my Dad was dying and everybody abandoned me because I was so dead-set on dealing with it alone, you were there. Treating me like I meant something. Like I was somebody, not just some playmate that can be discarded when I started getting moody."

"Is that what all this has been about?", she asked, suddenly indignant. "Because you think you owe me?!"

"It's because I love you!", I yelled. "Because making you smile makes me smile. And because you're worth it, Eve. Whether I'm getting arrested with drugs or being terrorized by a hall monitor with delusions of grandeur, you're worth it all and then some!" I left my seat, crouched beside her, and took her hands in mine. "I love you, Eve. You're the most important thing in the world to me. And even if life tears us apart someday, I'll never stop loving you. I want to see you smile every day, because you're beautiful when you smile."

"Aaron," she said, "You can't make me smile. There's just…"

"No," I interrupted. "no, I can't. But I can be here. And I can hold you when you can't smile. Before, when I said I didn't care, that was a lie, Eve. I care about you more than I've ever cared about anything." I put my hand on her cheek, feeling the small warmth there. "So please, just… just don't give up. Just never stop trying to be happy. Because when you give up, when you're miserable, I feel that pain, too."

"Aaron...", she began.

But words failed utterly. Eventually, she just half-leaned, half-fell into me. We held each other, eyes closed, foreheads touching, breathing the same breaths. For an eternal moment, there was nothing else in the world except for the warmth of the sun shining and the distant sound of the songbirds.

When at last we separated, I looked at her. Her face was somber, but neutral. She looked at me, and something about the sight seemed to amuse her.

"Aaron," Eve said, "you are so fucking sappy." She broke down laughing halfway through saying it. I realized belatedly that tears were in my eyes. I wiped them away, a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I said. "But so is maple syrup, and everybody loves that."

Again she laughed, and this time it was true laughter. Joyful. The foul bewitching spell on her heart had been broken. For now, at least.

She rose to her feet. I did likewise, aching a bit from the awkward squatting position. Eve brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "God, my face is a mess, isn't it?", she said.

I grimaced. "I wasn't going to bring it up but… yeah, kinda. Your makeup is all over everywhere."

She scoffed. "Figures. I spent all morning getting it just right, then fucking Annie happens. Ugh… I better wash it off."

She walked over to the ladder, and I followed her. "You okay?", I asked, to be sure.

She shrugged. "Getting there. Thanks for being here, Aaron. After what I said earlier, I thought..."

"You knew I was coming," I said. "Don't pretend otherwise."

Eve looked at me quizzically. I smirked back at her.

"I've come here half a dozen times," I told her. "but this is the first time the garage door was left open."


	14. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

LIVING IN AN AGE THAT LAUGHS

I had planned to head back to school with Eve after making sure she was okay, but after we got down from the roof she asked if I was interested in a _Tekken _rematch. By now the school day was half done anyway, so I agreed. She wanted to clean herself up first, so I waited in her room while she showered. Reclining on the bed, I passed the time with some games on my phone. Until the phone rang. Kevin's number showed up on the screen. I answered.

"Sorry about earlier," I said.

"Don't worry about it," came Kevin's voice over the line. "I've had worse. How's she doing?"

"How'd you know I was with her?", I asked.

"Because if I were in your position I wouldn't listen to me either," Kevin said. "Besides, the whole school heard you bitch out Annie during third period. Hell, they heard it in Antarctica."

"Yeah, well… that's not necessarily a good thing," I said. "I'm guessing Annie's still fuming?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about her," Kevin said with a lilt in his voice. "Lunchtime, the principal called her to the office over the P.A. She was seen walking out about twenty minutes later in tears and missing her hall monitor's badge."

"About time!", I said.

"I hear you," Kevin replied. "Apparently ripping a student's underwear off in the middle of the lunchroom was the last straw. But get this: word through the grapevine is, Annie was just a patsy. Somebody else put her up to it."

I remembered earlier this morning and put it together. "Roxy," I said. Not as a question.

"Yep," Kevin said. "Story goes, she had seen Eve's… ah… 'bulge' in the locker room a while back. Apparently a number of girls have, but nobody paid it much mind. They figured she just wore thick maxi pads, and girls have strict codes of confidence about those things. But somehow Roxy got the idea that Eve was actually smuggling a drug stash in her panties. So she puts that idea in Annie's head, and… well, we all saw the result. Roxy was as surprised as anybody else. Word is, she's absolutely disgusted with herself."

"Good," I said.

"You, uhhh… you two aren't going to go after her again, are you?", Kevin asked.

"Nah, Eve's done with revenge. Let Roxy's conscience punish her." I said. After a pause, I added: "So what are they saying about Eve?"

"Ah, well...", Kevin said, suddenly a lot less sunny. "The jury's still out on that. A lot of people are surprised, some shocked. A few are claiming they knew all along, but nobody believes them."

"Did you know?" I asked.

"No," Kevin answered. "I had a few suspicions- she reminded me a bit of a trans woman I knew in college- but I never asked her about it, and she never told me anything. But hey, you never answered my question. How is she doing?"

"Well," I said, "I wouldn't say it was a pleasant experience, but… well, she'll be in school tomorrow. Who knows what'll happen then."

"Who ever does?" Kevin said. "High school is high school..."

"Yeah, yeah," I replied. "Listen, I'll do what I can to support her, but she might need help from you too. Like you said, I have no idea what she's going through."

"She can count on me," Kevin said. "She's my brother's girl, that makes her practically family." Somberly, he added, "It won't be easy, you know."

"I'm sure it won't," I replied. "But I believe in her. She's a strong woman, she'll make it."

"I meant for you," Kevin said. "You're going to be hated for loving her, too."

I scoffed. "Kevin, I don't give a flying fuck if they hate me. I don't care if they burn me at the stake! I love her, and that love is worth it."

Kevin laughed. "Young love rushes in where angels fear to tread."

By now the shower had shut off and I heard the door open. Still ranting to Kevin, I sat up. "Man, the angels can kiss my ass! Why should I care..."

I stopped abruptly as I saw Eve. She was standing in the doorway, completely nude. It was not as last time, when she had been scared and naked and vulnerable. Today she stood proud and confident. Her hands were folded behind her back, and her hair- still wet from the shower- hung free to her shoulders. She had scrubbed the makeup from her face, and stood before me clean and undoctored, with an impish smile on her face. This was the true Eve, 100% pure, raw and uncut. Like a Greek statue, the lines of her body were smooth and delicate, and her penis blended right in with her slim figure, not disrupting the curves a bit. That penis was also- from appearances- not entirely soft.

"I'll call you back," I told Kevin, and hung up.

Eve crept closer, stepping so soft I couldn't hear her footfalls against the floor. "Would you mind getting the curtains?", she asked.

I didn't mind at all. I went to the window and closed them. When I turned back around, I found she'd snuck up behind me. I nearly jumped.

"Jeez, you are a cat at heart," I said.

She giggled. "I have a bit of a confession. See, the dress wasn't the gift, and it wasn't the preview. It was... well… wrapping paper." She traced a finger down my chest. _I think I'm being seduced, _I thought. "I had planned to offer you the present at prom, but… well, you're here now, so maybe you'd like to pick up where we left off last time?"

I smiled, trying not to let on how nervous I was. "Well, uh, as I recall, we left off with me..." I removed my hoodie and shirt and stood there bare-chested. "like this, and we were..."

Before I could finish, she lunged forward and kissed me. This was a deep, insistent kiss. A breathtaking kiss. I felt the soft warmth of her chest against mine, and the heat in my body rose quickly. Amongst other things.

When we broke, I looked at her and said, "...and I was about to ask you if I could touch it."

"Mmmm?" she said mischievously. "Touch what now?"

I brought my hands to her chest and rubbed those small but perfect mounds softly, making her giggle. I ran my thumbs across her nipples, finding them hard and engorged.

"Everything," I answered.

"Well, you better get started, then," Eve said.

This time I was the one who lunged for the kiss. It was a hard kiss, rougher than I had planned. I'm sure my teeth nipped her lips at least once. My passions, wild and feral, were in control right now. She moaned approvingly. Encouraged, I squeezed her breasts harder. One hand ventured down below her hips. My fingers curled around her hardness, and found it purposefully firm. My body goose pimpled with excitement, as if it was a lightning rod. Without breaking the kiss, I squeezed. Eve gasped and grunted. Again I squeezed, this time pinching her nipple at the same time…

"Ouch!", Eve yelped, and pulled away. Instantly I released her, embarrassed and ashamed.

"Sorry!", I said. "Uh… too rough?"

"Yeah," she said, "a little."

"Sorry," I repeated. _Idiot_, I thought. _You have one yourself, you should know how to use it! _ "I uh… got a bit carried away," I laughed nervously. "Guess I have a few things to learn."

Eve laughed softly, then stepped close to me. "It's okay," she said.

She put her hands on my cheeks and kissed me. This kiss was cooler, at first, but it soon heated up again. She took my hand and placed it back on her hardness. I stroked it up and down with my fingertips. Eve gasped as I did. She broke the kiss. "I'm new to this myself," she said. "We'll learn together."

She took my hands in hers and walked backwards, leading me over to the bed. She sat down and leaned back, enticingly. "Show me," she said.

I forced my shoes off, not bothering with the laces, then the rest, piece by piece. I went slow, trying to be cool and not look too eager. (I probably failed.) Eve sat there, stroking herself in anticipation. When everything was off, she appraised it with here eyes, and smiled. She lifted her gaze to meet mine, and her shimmering blue eyes were positively giddy. I expected her to say something about it, but she didn't. Instead she reached forward, taking hold of it with the same hand that had just been touching hers. She jerked me slowly, with delicate feminine fingers. As low-key as it was, it still set my heart pounding.

I leaned forward, bring my head down until my lips again met hers. My arms encircled her and I laid her down on the bed. Her hand was still wrapped around my dick, and I took hold of hers again. She laid supine beneath me and we kissed while jerking each other. I'd love to say what I was thinking then, but I wasn't thinking. I was feeling, acting, obeying an instinct more ancient than thought. Eve was too. We were entranced with each other.

For a shortage of space, our dicks wound up bumping together, but that wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was exciting. Enough that I wanted more of it. I brushed and nuzzled her tip against her shaft. Heavy breathing and a giggling smile told me she liked it. Emboldened, I took her hand and moved it away. She looked up at me questioningly, but I just smiled back. I laid my member against hers lengthwise, shaft on shaft and balls on balls. As she'd noted, hers were smaller than mine, but she didn't complain. I humped back and forth against her, and she gasped. The muscle was hard, but the skin itself was velvety-soft.

Impulsively, I reached down and gripped hers and mine at once, holding them against one another. I stroked my hand up and down, jerking us both at once. Eve sucked in a breath and let it out as a long shudder. Soon both of us were breathing fast and erratic. I stroked faster and harder, my hand moving almost on it's own. Eve moaned hard and deep. She turned her head to the side and bit her lip. My heart was pounding like a drum. Eve's cock was literally throbbing against mine, almost as if I could feel her heartbeat through the joining of our most private pieces. My pace quickened further, becoming almost frantic…

"Wait," Eve said suddenly. Immediately, I released her and withdrew, propping myself up on my arms over her. Eve was still breathing heavy, and clearly flushed. Had I done something wrong?

"You okay?" I asked, worried.

She snickered, still trying to catch her breath. "You're doing great, just…", gasping, she held up a finger. _One minute_.

When she had composed herself, she put her hands on my cheeks and looked right into my eyes. Her face filled my field of vision, and on it I saw an eager yearning mixed with a drop of anxiety.

"Aaron," she said, "will you be my first?"

I didn't get it. "Uh… isn't that… what we're doing now?"

Eve laughed, but stifled it quickly. "Yes, but I meant… umm..."

She bit her lip nervously, seemingly unable to find the words. "I want to go… further."

Taking my hand, she moved it to her balls, and then further down. "You get it?", she asked.

"Ah," I said, comprehending.

Her face was red from embarrassment. They don't teach you how to talk about this stuff in sex ed. Maybe they should. "I… I mean," she stammered. "We don't have to. If you think..."

I put a finger to her lips and she quieted. "It's okay," I said with a warm smile. "Hang on, let me get something."

I leaned over the edge of the bed and found my pants. I fished my wallet from the pocket, and a condom from the wallet. I checked the expiration date: still good. Rock on. Kneeling on the bed, I unwrapped it and… could not get it on. As a freshman, I had practiced this skill for the occasion when it would be useful. I thought I'd had it down. Maybe I'd grown since then? That would have been encouraging, in another context.

I looked at Eve and laughed nervously. She snickered back. "Hold on, I've got something too," she said. She rolled over and took a quick rummage through her nightstand drawer, coming up with a small squeeze bottle of clear liquid and, incidentally, a pocket-pack of tissues. She got to her knees and faced me, sidling close. A flick of her thumb opened the bottle with a snap.

"Just a few drops of this," she said, dripping three onto the tip of my dick, "and rub it around." She did exactly that. She had a giddy smile as she worked the lube all over. She didn't mention that you also needed to be fully hard, but with her anointing me, that wasn't a problem. "Try it now," she said. I did, and the condom slid right on.

Eve handed the bottle to me. "Will you… umm... do me?" she asked timidly.

I hesitated, but only a second. "Sure. Turn around," I said.

Eve did so. "It's, uhh…," she said nervously. "It's clean back there. I cleaned it..."

I kissed the side of her neck, which stopped her words. I held that kiss for a long second, careful not to bruise the flesh, before releasing. "There's not a single bit of you that's dirty," I told her. I picked that line up from an adult manga, I think.

I squeezed some of the slick liquid onto my fingertips and then touched them to Eve's ass. I planned to get this done fast, but when she squeaked out a moan as I made contact, I changed my mind and decided slow was the way to go. I rubbed up and down the crack, then around the hole itself. She ground against my hand like we were on a dance floor.

"Sensitive back there?", I asked.

She nodded, leaning back against me. Her supple back rubbed against my chest as I continued my ministrations.

"More," she said.

I squeezed more lube onto my fingers. "How much?," I asked.

"Twice as much as you think you need, and then some more." she answered. I was 98% sure she'd gotten advice from Odette. I rubbed all around the tight hole.

"Inside," she said.

I pushed a finger in and smeared the lube around. I saw what Eve meant; if it was this tight around a single finger, it would need a lot more treatment to take the real deal. But that was fine. The way she moaned as my finger penetrated her told me she had no problem with building the anticipation. As for me… it _was_ a little gross, honestly, but seeing her react to my touch was a _massive_ turn-on.

She held up her hand, palm up. "Give me some, I'll do you."

I squeezed some lube into her palm and she rubbed it up and down my dick. Even with the condom, I could feel the pressure and warmth of her fingers sliding back and forth. The preparation became part of the sex act itself, the two of us moaning and gasping as we smeared lubricant all over each other's naughty bits. When it got to the point that I could slide two fingers in and out without resistance, I withdrew, grabbing some tissues and wiping off my hand. "Ready?" I asked.

Eve bit her lip and nodded yes. She leaned forward, knees on the mattress and face resting on a pillow, then pushed her ass up towards me. My breath was heavy, my heart beating hard from the anticipation. "Do it," she said.

It was some effort to get in. At first I was reticent- I didn't want to hurt her. But she coaxed me into pushing harder, and the resisting orifice slowly relaxed and gave way. Once the tip was in, the slick lubrication made it easy. Eve's insides engulfed me, hot and tight and soft. She moaned a hot and breathless moan, and her passage quivered and clenched around my flesh.

"Is it okay?", I asked, suddenly short of breath.

She nodded. "Deeper," she said. ""As far as you can go."

I did so, eagerly. She gasped. "Oh, god!", she groaned. "Right there! Harder!" She steadied herself with her hands on the mattress, groaning into the pillow, back arched like a tiger looking to pounce. I thrust in and out, driven by a wild instinct that I could barely understand, let alone control. Our bodies were united, passion feeding off of passion, growing ever stronger, stronger. I leaned forward and practically fell on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. She squealed in alarm, then moaned in savage delight. Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets, and I put my hand over hers, curling my fingers through the spaces between hers until my fingernails nipped at her palms. All the while, I pounded, pounded away, like the pounding of my heart.

I said nothing, but I know she could feel it, as my body tensed, pressure building and blood rushing. My toes curled, and it felt like everything was squeezing. When the moment hit, it was like a lightning bolt through my brain, a blaze suddenly flaring up white-hot, a jump straight into the clouds like a rocket. I threw my free arm around Eve, and held her tight against my body, mashing my face into her neck, so close I could hear her ragged breathing. Everything tightened in a moment of sublime, intense release.

And then, in the space of a moment, it was over. Everything relaxed, fulfilled. The tension fled. All my muscles unclenched, and my body draped over Eve's like a warm comforter. I let out a long breath. Inhaled, and let that out too. Moaning with satisfaction, I nuzzled Eve's cheek and kissed her. "I love you," I whispered. She turned her head enough to kiss me back, on the lips. She didn't reply, but her smile said all I needed.

I withdrew from her body and sat up. Grabbing some more tissues, I removed the condom, careful not to spill any of the contents. I wrapped it in more tissue and wadded it all up. I then looked around for someplace to put it. The wastepaper basket was clear across the room.

"Oh, just toss it on the floor," Eve said. "It won't leak like that. Pick it up later."

I did so, then curled up against Eve's body. She had rolled over onto her back and gotten comfortable. I cuddled against her, all smiles. She smiled back at me, but the smile told me something was wrong.

"You good?", I asked.

"Fantastic," she said.

I reached down and ran my fingers across her dick. It was hard and relatively dry. "Liar," I said with a smile. The penis, for all its faults, is the most stringently honest part of the body. I kissed Eve on the lips. "Don't worry," I said, "I'm not going to leave you hanging."

I kissed her again, and rolled over almost on top of her. While my hand worked her dick, my lips traveled down, over her chin, into the valley of her neck, across her small but very sensitive bust- licking a nipple as I passed- down to her stomach... and that's when she realized where I was going. "Y-you don't have to…," she said.

"Shhhhh," I said. "Let me make you feel good."

I continued, and reached my destination.

I tasted. Her taste was incredible- musky and sexy and primally exciting. I tongued and teased all over while she shuddered. Then I took it. The moment I did, all the air rushed into her lungs and was held there, tremblingly. Breathing soon resumed, heavy and labored. I looked up and saw her neck arched back, her fingernails again clawing at the bedsheets, her stomach heaving with the excitement. What would people think if they saw me? I didn't care. Let them think whatever they wanted. I knew the truth. Whatever they might say, Eve was Eve, and that was all that mattered. And more than anything else right now, I wanted Eve to feel good.

Her excitement built quickly. She was hard and twitching nearly instantly. I worked carefully, trying very hard not to get my teeth in the way, and she responded with vigor. "Oh my god," she said. "Oh my god, Aaron!" Hearing my name cried in ecstasy only made me want to please her more. I went harder, took her deeper, pushed her higher and higher.

I didn't see. But I heard the deep breath and the slow moan afterwards. I felt her body tense and twitch. And I tasted.

She had a beautiful taste.

And when next I looked into her eyes, she smiled a joyful and honest smile, and kissed me a loving and satisfied kiss.

* * *

And then we laid there, side by side, holding each other, basking in the intimacy. We kissed, and caressed, and spoke words of love, but mostly we just laid together, skin warm and tender against skin, hearts beating beside each other. We were relaxed and purified, without cares or worries.

Our worries were waiting for us. Sooner or later, we'd have to leave this bed. Sooner or later, Grace would be home, or we'd get hungry, or a ringing phone would break the spell, or something, and then this moment would end and all the things that were a world away right now would matter again. And the clock would turn, and tomorrow would come around.

And indeed, there would be drama. The drama of high school, the drama of family, the drama of people unable to accept a woman who had a penis, the drama of love and life and a thousand different things, and nothing could stop it. I couldn't take away Eve's problems. I couldn't take them on myself. Couldn't live her life for her. But I could make sure she knew that here, with me, whenever she needed it, she could have a refuge. With me, for as long as I was able, she would always be safe. Comforted. Accepted.

Loved.

That was all I could do for her. Maybe it's all one human being can ever really do for another. It seems so little, such a small thing.

But maybe it's enough.

* * *

"Hi, Dad. It's been a while. Well no, I guess not. It's only been a few months. But so much has happened, it feels like a lot longer. I graduated last week. I'll be off to college in the fall. Still not sure what I'm going to do when I get there, but I'll figure something out. State university is not like a private college; I should be able to get through without too much debt."

"Mom's doing okay. She had it rough for a while, and she still does. Sometimes I walk into the living room and see her just sitting there, crying, or else just staring at the wall. But other times, she's smiling, and laughing. She has work, and she's holding it down. She'll be staying with Aunt Diane for the foreseeable future. She'll never have the life we once did, but between the two of them, they can pay the bills and chip away at the debt. It'll be a long road for her, but she'll be okay, I think."

"I've, uhh… I've been seeing someone lately. A girl named Eve, who I know from school. I don't think I ever mentioned her to you when you were alive. She's… she's awesome. Beautiful and smart and creative… she's one of a kind, Dad. I wish you could have met her. I think you would have liked her."

"Listen, Dad… Since you've died I've been… well, I've been trying to forget you. It just hurt so much to miss you, to think about the loss, and I didn't want to hurt, so I just tried to bury it all. To move on. But I think… if you try to forget the pain, you have to also forget the good stuff. The happy memories, the stuff you learned… and I learned a lot from you, Dad. From the things you did right, but also the mistakes you made. You were a good man, Dad. Since you've been gone, I've seen that you made a lot of mistakes, but you made them all for the right reasons. You did them because you wanted Mom and I to be happy. You always put that first. So I'm done trying to forget. Instead I'm going to remember. The failures most of all, because those will teach me what not to do. I'm going to build a life from what I learned from you, the good and the bad, and I'm going to do it better. Make less mistakes, or at least different ones."

"You don't get to spend forever with the people you love. At some point, there's always a goodbye. And you've got to go on with your life. But I think, if you don't remember them, if you don't hold to your heart how they taught you, inspired you, gave you joy and comfort and happiness, that's when they really die. I miss you, Dad. I miss you, and it hurts, and maybe it always will. But if missing you is the price of having known you, then I'm glad to have been your son."

"I have to go now. I don't know when I'll be back here, but I'll carry you with me, Dad. Always."

I laid the flowers I'd brought by the gravestone and walked away.


	15. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

IN YOUR HEAD, IN YOUR MOUTH, IN YOUR SOUL

Eve and I spent all summer together. We made lots of memories. We went to the movies, hung out at the mall, snuck into clubs we were too young for. We had all-night anime binges and _Tekken_ competitions and sung karaoke at Odette's birthday party. I took her to the prom; she looked lovely in that blue plaid dress. We took a walk in the park one day, and ran into the Frisbee club. I introduced Eve, and we threw the disc around for awhile. They were glad to see me doing well. I felt a little guilty for not reconnecting with them sooner. Eve came to dinner at my place, and met the family. We went to the town's independence day festival, where we introduced our families to each other. And we spent evenings- not all of them, but many- tangled in each others bodies in animalistic jubilation.

Many memories. Most of them happy, some of them sad, a few of them angry. But these are treasured memories. Private ones. I will keep them to myself. Except for one: the day we went to the beach.

I borrowed the car and drove us out there. It was good beach weather, and the place was crowded with revelers, but we managed to stake out a plot in a reasonably open area. I had the old, orange swim trunks that I kind of hated, but Eve had picked out a new swimsuit for the occasion: a bikini with a green and blue pattern. It matched her hair, which was a brighter blue than usual- she had recently refreshed the color. It was her first time ever wearing a woman's swimsuit, and she looked fantastic in it. Anybody who looked would note an unusual bulge in the bottoms. But either nobody was looking, or those who were didn't care.

It was a beautiful day. Blue skies, golden sand, bright sun. We slathered each other in sunscreen and then sat on beach towels under an umbrella, watching the clouds and listening to the waves and the seagulls' calls. Eve got inspired and decided to sketch the ocean. I left her to it and went to fetch us some water. When I got back I saw Eve talking with a blond girl in a purple bikini, who crouched next to her in the sand. It was a moment before I recognized Roxy. My first thought was that this meant trouble, but they seemed to be cordial to each other, so I hung back out of earshot and let them talk. Eventually, Roxy got up and walked away. She passed me on the way and nodded politely, but would not meet my eyes.

I walked over to Eve and handed her a bottle of water. "So how's it going?" I asked.

"Ugh," she said. "Landscapes are not my thing." She stowed her sketchpad in the beach bag, opened the bottle and took a drink. "I dunno, I've got to practice to improve as an artist, but it always looks so dead. I can't make the waves look real." Eve passed the bottle to me, and I took a drink. She looked at me quizzically. "Umm, don't you have one of your own?"

I did, actually. Sitting right there in my other hand. We were used to sharing drinks, and I'd acted on reflex. "It tastes sweeter after your lips have touched it," I said.

Eve rolled her eyes. "Sure thing, lover," she said sarcastically. I smiled.

After a pause, I asked "So what did Roxy want?"

"She wanted to apologize for being such a cunt to me over the school year," Eve answered. "And particularly for… you know."

"And what did you tell her?", I asked.

"The truth," she said. "That we should put it behind us. It was high school drama, and we're not in high school anymore."

"Ah," I said. We sat and watched the clouds for a second.

"She flunked senior year, you know," Eve said.

"Yeah, I'd heard," I replied. "Really wrecked her plans. She had planned for college, but now she's living at home, looking for work while taking night classes. Might be for the best, though. As she is now, I doubt Roxy would get much out of college but a lot of debt." I shrugged. "Maybe she'll turn her life around. We'll see."

Eve said nothing. Apparently, the mention of college had gotten her thinking. "So, have you decided what you're going to study?"

"Mmm…," I said. "I've got a few ideas. We'll see how it goes."

Actually, I had more than an idea. But I didn't tell her because I wasn't sure if I was going to stick with it. I'd been thinking lately, about high school. About all the drama. Not just me and Eve, but everyone. Tyrone, stuck between two worlds. Roxy, lost in people's expectations of her. And so many others I didn't even know. The class had graduated now, but a new crop of freshmen was ready to take their place, walking the same hallways, facing the same problems, living the same never-ending drama, and always thinking that nobody else had it as bad as them. High school would always be high school. And high schoolers need, more than anything, to know they're not alone. The state university had a course of study on guidance counseling, and that was what I planned to do. Because these kids needed somebody to talk to, and like Eve had said, all I ever did was talk.

Or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I'd get two years into it, realize it wasn't what I expected, switch majors and do something else. Nobody knows the future. It's bound to surprise you. One day, your Dad comes home from the doctor and blows your whole life out of the water. Another day, you say hello to a girl you don't know and it starts the best thing to ever happen to you. Nothing will ever go exactly as planned. The future is a vast collection of maybes. That's what makes it so exciting.

"So what happens to us?", Eve asked.

I knew what she meant. "We'll keep in touch," I said. "San Francisco is not the moon. We've got each other's Facebook accounts. Five, six years, when we're both done with college, we can get together again."

"But we'll be different people by then, Aaron," she said. "What if we don't feel the way we do now?"

I shrugged. "Then we'll find other people. People who we connect with better. You'll always be my first love, Eve. No matter what else happens, that will never change."

Eve met my gaze, blue eyes shimmering like the light on the ocean waves. "I don't want it to end."

"Neither do I," I said. "But everything has to, someday. We'll find joy again. If not with each other, well..." I smacked my forearm. "we'll have these, to remember."

As a graduation present, Grace had given us matching tattoos on our forearms. Same font and embellishments, but we picked the text for each other. Mine read "You're the best", and hers, "Beautiful woman". Eve ran her fingers across the words and smiled, ever so slightly.

"Yeah," she said. "I'll never forget you, Aaron. Never."

I smiled, leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

"But hey," I said, "It's way too early for goodbyes. We're here at the beach, and it's a beautiful day. Let's enjoy it." I stood up and held a hand out to her. "Let's go for a swim."

"You know," Eve said, "that sounds like a good idea." She took my hand and got to her feet, then we kicked off our sandals and walked down to the ocean.

The water was cool and gentle on the skin. We waded in waist deep, to the point where you can take your feet off the ground and just float. The waves rolled like hills, lifting us up and down. When the big breakers came along, we bodysurfed them back to shore. We got sandy in the process, swallowing and inhaling seawater, and at one point Eve got seaweed in her hair. Sometimes it even felt like the ocean had caught us. Like we weren't in control, and about to get swept away. But always, we washed up in the muddy shallows and walked right back in, eager for more. We laughed, giddy with the excitement.

A big one came along, and Eve challenged me to get over it. She jumped, daring the ocean to toss her back to the shore if it could. Eve won that challenge, hitting the crest before it broke, and the wave crashed onward without her. But when she looked around, she didn't see me. She looked to the shore, and around, but I was nowhere to be seen.

She was just about to get worried when I jumped out of the water beside her, splashing her. I had dove under the wave to sneak up on her. She screamed in surprise and I swept her into my arms. Laughing, she shoved me away and threw seawater in my face mock-angrily. I threw some back at her, and we splashed each other like children.

In the middle of our splash-fight, I closed the distance and kissed her. Her lips were salty from the seawater, but they felt and tasted as lovely as they always did. She smiled dreamily at me, and we kissed again. And again. Ignorant of the other swimmers, we held each other and kissed, floating as if weightless in the cerulean waves. She laid her head on my shoulder and gave a contented sigh.

The past was unchangeable, the future unknown, and tomorrow would surely bring more drama to add to an ever-growing pile. But we always have the here and now. And here and now, everything was good.


End file.
